Masquerade
by Myshawolf
Summary: SH22. Sherlock and Moriarty race against each other, trying unravel a mystery that surrounds the Paris Opera House and it’s ‘ghostly” inhabitant. Who will win in this race of wit and wills? And what will happen when said inhabitant fights back?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Set in Paris. Sherlock and Moriarty race against each other, trying unravel that surrounds the Paris Opera House and it's 'ghostly" inhabitant. Who will win in this race of wit and wills? And what will happen when said inhabitant fights back? SH22.  
  
A/N: Hi! I'm kind of new to this section. Here is my story. It's set during SH22 cartoon. I don't own any of the characters. (There are a few exceptions, but I'm not to sure if copyright laws apply to them.*Shrugs* Oh, well) Please enjoy and review. It's the only way that I know if I'm doing anything right.  
  
Masquerade By Myshawolf Chapter 1- A Mystery Cometh.  
  
Inspector Beth Lestrade glared at the report on her desk. She had just solved a very frustrating case with Sherlock Holmes. She felt exhausted both mentally and physically. Now her supervisor gave her this file for the New Paris Police. Groaning she flipped through the pages scanning the basic information. She froze at the sight of one photograph. It was a little blurry, but she recognized the man in it and saw red. Moriarty.  
  
Lestrade began shifting through the file folder for the report that went with the picture. She grinned when she found the report. She read it thoroughly as to not missing anything information. Satisfied that she didn't miss a thing, she set the report down. She had several questions. Quickly she packed up the file when she realized her shift was over with. She had questions and knew where to go for answers.  
  
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Moriarty sat in silence. He didn't expect to spend so much time tracking down one man. Fenwick had assured him that the Paris underground would provide them with the information they desired. He closed his eyes as Bach played in the background. It fitted his mood at the time. This man better be worth the pursuit or Fenwick was in trouble. So all he heard was rumors and childish stories.  
  
He wondered briefly why he was even looking for this man. It wasn't like he needed the competition. Another mad genius trying to run the show would most definitely complicate matters. Maybe Moriarty was intrigued by this man's presence in this futuristic time. After all he supposedly lived during the 19th century as well. The allure of meeting another man from the Victorian age was strong. So he hid in Paris trying to find some clue to the whereabouts of this mysterious man. Well, Fenwick was anyways.  
  
Speaking of which, Moriarty wondered briefly where his lackey was. He left this afternoon, intent on tracking down the next lead. Moriarty had to admire his lackey's tenacity on this pursuit. Normally, Fenwick was reluctant to do what Moriarty wanted. However he was very eager to track down this man that his master wanted. Moriarty stood up from his chair and walked to the pile of books he had brought with him. Tomorrow, He would go to the Opera. He would look for any sign of the man there. After all, this man was a supposed music lover and regularly attended the opera. He looked toward the door as he heard footsteps echo down the hallway.  
  
Fenwick meekly walked into the room. He couldn't meet his master's eyes as he slinked into the room. Moriarty noted his slave's body language and knew instantly that he had failed. Moriarty select a book and moved back to his chair. Fenwick was alert to Moriarty's movements. So when Moriarty sat down, Fenwick assumed he didn't notice his entrance and gave a blessing for that.  
  
"Another dead end?" Moriarty commented calmly as he opened the book. Fenwick flinched instantly. Master wasn't going to like his news.  
  
"Not exactly." Fenwick responded. Moriarty looked up from his book intrigued by this response and waited for Fenwick to continue. Fenwick gulped and did, "I found the man."  
  
Moriarty smiled, "Excellent. Where is he?"  
  
"In the cemetery." Fenwick whispered, "He was shot dead a few years ago by a count who thought he was doing Paris a favor."  
  
Moriarty was in shock. Fenwick gulped and hurried to his room. Moriarty stared into blank space. He traveled all this way for nothing. The man was dead, and been that way for years. He walked over to Fenwick's hiding spot and pinned the poor man with a heated gaze.  
  
"You learned where he is buried?" Moriarty asked. Fenwick nodded quickly. Moriarty smiled, "Good. You will take me there."  
  
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"Ah, Inspector Lestrade. What a nice surprise." Watson greeted as he opened the door and let her in.  
  
"Is Holmes in? I have a case here he may be interested in." Lestrade commented as she walked into the apartment.  
  
Sherlock Holmes looked up from the instrument he was trying to play. At times like this he missed his violin. The instrument Lestrade had provided for him didn't have the same feeling as his violin did. Grateful for a break, he smiled at his dear friend and stood to greet her.  
  
"My dear Lestrade, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Holmes smiled as he moved to his favorite chair. Lestrade followed his lead and sat down. She pulled out the old file folder.  
  
"This new case I was given. At first it seems to be an old legend that someone was investigating until recently." Lestrade started.  
  
"In Paris." Holmes stated.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"Eyes and ears. The tab on that folder is written in French and it refers to the Paris Opera House."  
  
"You must know what legend it refers to then."  
  
"I have a hunch. Continue please."  
  
"Very well. The opera house in questions has had several mishaps over the past few centuries. Especially when the management was, let say, not what they appeared to be. The mishaps have been around since the place was built. They were intense until in the year 1889 when the whole thing supposedly came to an end." Lestrade recounted. Holmes had his hands steeple together as he listened to her. His mind wandered back to the past and began remembering the events as well.  
  
"The death of the Opera Ghost in an explosion. I remember the articles well enough." Holmes sighed.  
  
"Everything was quiet for several years. Then things started back up again. Apparently during the Nazi invasion of France, The accidents began to take Nazi lives or at least those who tried to abuse their power in the Opera House. It turned out that several priceless pieces of art were hidden there and The Ghost was protecting them. Afterwards everyone was kind to its presence. The police didn't even bother to track it down. There were a few encounters with the ghost and anyone who tried to capture him met with a most unfortunate accident. No one has ever given a reliable description of the ghost."  
  
Watson spoke up, "If the police are not interested in catching this ghost, why bother?"  
  
"What are the recent encounters with the ghost?" Holmes asked. He was intrigued. He never got to work on this particular case in his day.  
  
"A few years ago, a young nobleman was brought in for questioning over a morning duel with another man. He bragged to the officers that he killed the Famous Opera Ghost and presented a bloodstained cloak as proof. He claimed he was trying to protect Paris from the demon. He was charged with murder, convicted and..." Lestrade spat out, "freed earlier this year. He only served two years for murder. Zed, that's wrong."  
  
"Without a body, I'm surprised he was convicted." At Lestrade's look, Holmes smiled, "You didn't mention it so I conclude there wasn't one."  
  
Lestrade nodded, "That isn't the most recent encounter. A few people at the Opera still claim to see the Ghost high in the rafters. Apparently, People hear piano or violin music during performances."  
  
"Sounds like they need an exorcist not a detective." Watson added.  
  
"I thought the same thing until I saw this picture." Lestrade pulled out the picture and handed it to Holmes. Holmes studied the picture. A frown touched his lips. Watson looked over his shoulder and gasped.  
  
"Moriarty." Holmes growled. Lestrade nodded.  
  
"That picture was taken two days ago. Word is he looking for the Opera Ghost." Lestrade informed them.  
  
"I wonder why?" Watson murmured.  
  
"I remember the accounts from the survivors of the original ordeal with the Phantom of The Opera. They claimed he was a great mechanical genius, especially with torture devices and disguises." Sherlock stated matter-of- factly.  
  
"It's impossible that Moriarty is seeking the same man." Lestrade commented.  
  
"What is this Phantom's reputation with the Paris Underworld?" Holmes asked.  
  
"It's not mentioned in the file. Why?" Lestrade asked.  
  
"I think we need to make a trip to Paris. The answers are there." Holmes remarked as he stood up, "Lestrade, do you think you could make the arrangements?"  
  
"Of course. When should we leave?"  
  
"As soon as possible."  
  
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Moriarty walked confidently through the graveyard. Fenwick lead the way, but he wasn't as confident. He grew up listening to the old stories about the dead rising up to protect their final resting place. He felt like he was being watched for every angle. Once or twice, he thought he saw a piece of cloak fly into view. He looked at Moriarty who was alert, yet relaxed. Fenwick felt a bit more confident when they reached the crypt. The name on the door read NOIR.  
  
"This is it, Master." Fenwick smiled, "The Phantom's final resting place."  
  
Moriarty stepped forward and easily pushed open the crypt's door. Fenwick watched scared as his master entered the tomb. He jumped when a voice stated loudly, "No."  
  
He turned to see a figure in black race towards him and threw a punch at his face. Fenwick dodged the punch, but didn't see the kick aimed at his gut. He doubled over in pain. The figure spun around him and landed a shot at the back of Fenwick's neck. Fenwick's vision blurred as he hit the ground and everything went black.  
  
The figure turned away for the fallen Fenwick and approached the crypt. Whoever was in there was going to pay for this indignity.  
  
Moriarty walked into the crypt surprised by the amount of plagues on the wall declaring who was buried there. There must be at least thirty generation of the Phantom's buried there. He stepped up to the newest looking plague.  
  
Erik Noir VI 2050-2100 A devoted friend, father, and teacher. You will be greatly missed.  
  
He read the inscription twice. He was defeated it would seem. The Phantom was really dead, killed by some foolish boy with delusions of grandeur. He would have loved to have met the man. Sounds of fighting reached Moriarty's ears. He turned to see a masked figure cloaked in black enter the tomb. The intruder's face was covered by a black mask that was tied across the bottom of their face. The hood shielded the rest from view. The figure glared daggers at him. Moriarty turned to face this new challenge. The figure pulled something for its cloak, a pair of kamas.  
  
"Why are you here?" The figure asked softly in its muffled voice.  
  
"I seek the Phantom." Moriarty stated as he moved his hand closer to the ionizer.  
  
"You are in the wrong place. This is a sacred place." The figure glared, "I suggest that you leave."  
  
"Or what?"  
  
"We'll have to see then."  
  
"So we shall." Moriarty smiled as he drew his ionizer and fired a shot. The figure deflected the shot with the blade of the kama. It moved to the side as well leaving the door open. Moriarty stepped towards it as he fired another shot. The figure dropped to the ground and charged toward him. It swung the kama towards the ionizer knocking both weapons to the ground. Moriarty caught the figure and spun it close to him.  
  
"Drop your weapon." Moriarty ordered as he twisted her wrist. The figure yelped then complied. Moriarty heard the kama clatter on the ground. Satisfied that the figure was harmless to a degree, he pulled down the hood intent on unmasking his assailant. What he got was a shock. Long locks of dark hair spilled from the hood. Moriarty breathed in the scent of jasmine as the hair cascaded down. For a second his guard was down.  
  
That second was all the figure need to get free. The figure spun out of Moriarty's hold. Their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds. Moriarty stared into a set of determined sapphire blue eyes. He could swear he could see flecks of gold. Then he felt it, a well placed kick to his gut. He staggered back as the figure raced out of the crypt, grabbing her kamas as she went. Moriarty was convinced that his attacker was a woman. He walked towards the door to see her disappear into the night. In the distance he could hear the sirens from the local police. Fenwick was just coming to and picking himself off of the ground. He noticed Moriarty's arm around his stomach.  
  
"He attacked you, master?" Fenwick observed, "I'll make sure they pay for it."  
  
"Not a he. That was a she." Moriarty corrected, "Let's go before the police get here."  
  
Fenwick nodded and they hurried back to their hide-out. Along the way, Moriarty mused about who that girl was and what was her connection to The Phantom's crypt. He was wondering if he should stay in Paris a little longer in order to find out. 


	2. Chapter 2

Masquerade Chapter 2- What an entrance!  
  
Sherlock looked out at New Paris. For as much as it changed, it he could still see some familiar structures. The Cathedral of Notre Dame still stood tall. Its gargoyles standing guard over the sleepless city. From the hover coach he recognized the tip of Apollo's lyre that graced the roof top of the Paris Opera House. A place that he was going to grow quite familiar with in the next few days.  
  
Lestrade gazed out over the city as well. She saw more things that were familiar to her than Holmes did. Paris was a city that was constantly changing. However several had remained the same through the centuries as if they refused to change their structure because time wanted them to too. She spotted the Eiffel tower and Notre Dame. She could see the splendor of The Louvre's entrance and of course the beauty of the Paris Opera House. Something snagged her attention.  
  
High on top of the Lyre, a great black flag was waving. Soon it moved to the other end of lyre. Beth blinked at the moving flag. She looked at Holmes whose attention was also focused on the moving object.  
  
"What is that?" Lestrade asked, "I don't remember a flag on top of the Opera House."  
  
"It's not a flag. It's a person up there." Sherlock whispered.  
  
"How? No one has ever been able to stand up there for that long. It's not even ground." Lestrade pointed out.  
  
"No doubt our Phantom can."  
  
Lestrade watched as the top of the opera House faded from sight as did the figure. Sherlock was wearing one of his calculating smiles. She settled back in her seat as she waited for the hover coach to arrive at the New Parisian Police Headquarters. Her friend was going to meet them there.  
  
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High on top of The Opera House, a figure cloaked in black stood effortlessly. Its sapphire blue eyes stared at the rising sun. Tonight, it would make a point to all of Paris especially that meddling count. Sure, he was free from prison earlier than anyone else. The blue eyes narrowed at the thought of him free for a crime that he should die for. Now he committed the gravest mistake of all, by making demands on the Opera Company, threatening its very existence by pushing untalented singers into its ranks. The figure smiled to itself. He thought he could meddle in the Opera's affairs because he killed the Phantom; he was in for a treat since the Phantom was very much alive.  
  
The management understood The Phantom's position. They even asked for its help in scaring off this particular patron. The Phantom couldn't disappoint them or Paris. Tonight, Paris would realize that the Phantom was alive and well. Nothing would make it go away. Not this time, not ever again  
  
Tearing the blue eyes away from the beautiful sunrise, the figure began it's descent from the lyre. There were things that were needed to be done. It had to prepare for its opening night. The managers were kind enough to make sure that the police weren't present for this performance. That would ruin things if it were caught. Silently the figure descended into the heavens above the Opera's stage.  
  
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Lestrade walked into the Parisian Police Station with great confidence. She hoped that Chief Inspector Leroux was still in. Sherlock looked around the modern police station. He noticed one bulletin board that was covered with newspaper clipping. One headline stood out from all the rest.  
  
Phantom Murdered?  
  
Before he could walk over to the board, his thoughts were interrupted when a voice shouted out.  
  
"Beth Lestrade? Is that you?" A man shouted from by the board. He was a little taller than Sherlock with a full head of grey hair. His hazel eyes twinkled with happiness as he bounded over. He scooped Lestrade up into a bear hug.  
  
"Uncle Etienne. We are in your office." Beth stammered as she reluctantly returned the hug.  
  
"And I'm off duty. I see you got the file I sent you." Etienne smiled as he set her down, "My, how you have grown. Your father would have been proud of you. Now who are your friends?"  
  
Lestrade blushed as she introduced everyone, "Sherlock Holmes and Watson, This is my father's best friend and our Parisian liaison, chief Inspector Etienne Leroux."  
  
Etienne extended a hand toward Holmes, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Welcome to New Paris."  
  
"It's definitely different from what I remember." Sherlock remarked.  
  
"It has changed somewhat, but it will look more familiar when we go toward the historic district." Etienne assured him, "Now let me take you to breakfast and I can fill you in on what is going on with this case."  
  
"Lead on, uncle."  
  
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After a light breakfast and some explaining, Etienne waited their reactions. Sherlock seemed to be in deep concentration as was his niece through friendship. Etienne smiled, those two made a beautiful couple. He remember when Beth ran the idea of bringing Sherlock Holmes back to life a little over a year ago. Etienne smiled wider, he was so skeptical of the idea then now he was eating breakfast with the world's greatest detective.  
  
"Chief Inspector Leroux," Holmes started.  
  
Etienne held up a hand, "Please call me Etienne or Leroux. Chief inspector is way too formal for my liking. I'm sorry. Please continue, Monsieur Holmes."  
  
Sherlock smiled as he continued, "Monsieur Leroux, when did this particular manifestation of the Phantom appear?"  
  
"In what way?"  
  
"The strange incidents that you mention in your report?"  
  
"Those have been on going ever since the death of Mademoiselle Christine Daae, one of main players in the Original Tragedy of the Opera Ghost. They have come in many forms. The only fatal ones are to those foolish enough to purposely hunt down the phantom. Our Phantom doesn't hunt for victims. They come to him."  
  
"What about the most recent manifestations?"  
  
"Music being heard in the Theater area at strange hours, sets being tampered with, a few people have claimed to see a figure in black flying among the ropes and catwalks above the stages, and voices are heard singing certain parts if the singers can't get them right. Those are the most recent minor events."  
  
"What are the major ones?"  
  
"People have claimed to encounter The Phantom at different places in the Opera House especially the rooftop or by Box Five. Last night, we were called to one on the local graveyards. A crypt was broken into and one of the perps was spotted fleeing the scene. A figure dressed in black. The other matches the description of your rival, Professor Moriarty." Etienne elaborated, "Word on the street is he is looking for the Phantom. No one knows why."  
  
Lestrade added, "Or they are not telling."  
  
"Either way, we must start looking at the Opera house." Sherlock suggested, "We will need to find the Phantom before he does."  
  
"The Opera Company won't be that cooperative with you." Etienne remarked.  
  
"Whatever not, we are there to help them." Watson said.  
  
"Well, The Phantom has become their Guardian Angel in a sense. He protects the members from harm whether it is from each other or a patron. Several believe he is their good luck charm especially with the Count de Chagny back on the streets." Etienne sighed.  
  
"Count de Chagny? He was the one who shot The Phantom a few years ago." Lestrade realized, "Why is he hanging around the theater?"  
  
"He is their principle patron or his family is. From what I hear, he is trying to bully the Opera managers into doing things his way. Tonight, they asked that no police be stationed at the Opera." Before Lestrade or anyone protested, Etienne smiled as he produced a set of tickets, "However, a friend of mine in the Opera gave me these tickets. We can be there in an unofficial capacity."  
  
"We can observe all the patrons and company members for anything out of the ordinary." Lestrade commented.  
  
"And possibly The Phantom. My friend feels that something big is going to happen tonight." Etienne informed them as he paid the waitress, "We are going to have a long night ahead of us. So let me get you to your hotel so you may rest."  
  
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The opening night of a new production was always a big deal at The Paris Opera House. Patrons dressed in their finest clothing, trying to show off the finest clothing. Some looked down right antique or inspired by old fashion trends. Sherlock felt a little out of place in his dress clothes. Leroux had picked them up earlier and informed them of the reception that was being held before hand. He believed they could pick up some clue that way.  
  
So Sherlock now stood in the lobby of the Opera House. He was bored as he looked across the crowd. Watson joined his side after a few moments of talking to one of the dancers.  
  
"Pleasant girl." Watson commented as he walked over, "Where is Inspector Lestrade?"  
  
"Chief Inspector Leroux took her to meet the managers. They should return soon." Sherlock smiled. In truth he felt the need to recover from the shock Lestrade gave him when she showed them her dress for the evening. It was a stylish black dress that fit her well. Sherlock had never seen her dress as a woman. Normally she wore her uniform when he saw her. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she showed him another facet of who she was.  
  
Sherlock scanned the room, trying to take in everyone there. His eyes locked on to a young man dress in evening clothes of the Victorian time period. A hat graced his head in a way that disguised his hair and face. A cape was draped over his arm as was a cane. He engaged in conversation with a young Arabic man who stood at the top of the stair. Holmes left the two to gaze at the other occupants of the stair ways. Soon Lestrade joined them. She drew Sherlock's gaze from the stairs back to her.  
  
The three friends were unaware that they were being observed. Standing on the landing that led to the balcony, stood Moriarty incognito. His eyes narrowed on Holmes. What was he doing here? Was he here for the Phantom as well? There was a wild goose chase that Holmes could gladly go on. Moriarty turned to go to his box when he spotted a young man coming up the stair. His clothing reminded Moriarty of the fashion in his day.  
  
The young man was joking around with another young man of Arabian descent. The Arabian was older looking of the two with his messy hair and beard. They stood on the landing, laughing together. The young man in the evening clothes turned to see Moriarty staring at them. He tossed Moriarty a smile.  
  
"Bonjour, Monsieur." The young man smiled brightly before turning to his companion, "So is everything okay?"  
  
"Just as you said it would be." the Arabian answered.  
  
"Excellente, Nadir. Merci."  
  
Before the Arabian, Nadir, could answer, music began to play loudly. Moriarty turned to see a young man with blonde hair and stylish clothing walks through the crowd. He glanced up at the two young men and froze at the look in the young men's eyes.  
  
Both sets of eyes blazed with hate, pure and simple hatred from the elegant man in the crowd. The younger ones were a more bright blue similar to the ones he had seen in the crypt. His hands though gloved looked like they want to wrap themselves around the man's neck and squeeze. The Arabian noticed the murderous gaze as well and cleared his throat.  
  
"I'll take you to your box before we have a dead body that needs burying." Nadir whispered as he led the young man away.  
  
Moriarty watched them go. Never had he seen such hatred before. He had felt it at times in his life but he never seen in the face of another. It left him with an odd feeling he couldn't quite name. He turned to see the elegant man in the company of the Opera's managers. Absently, he wondered what made what about this man that caused such hate. As the fop disappeared down the hallway to one of the boxes, an elder woman gazed at him with such hate as did the older man who joined her.  
  
"He has a lot of nerve coming here like he owned this place." The woman spat.  
  
"The Count de Chagny won't be so confident when he leaves. Now everything makes prefect sense." The man grinned evilly, "Come Madame Giry, we will be need on the stage before the performance starts."  
  
The two left quickly back down the stairs. Moriarty walked towards his box where Fenwick was waiting. It was going to be an interesting evening. Still he couldn't get those blue eyes glowing with such intense hatred out of his head. It stayed with his through the overture. Soon he realized what Opera was being performed. Faust was one his favorites, a story about temptation and betrayal. The darkness tempts the light from its post and consumes it.  
  
The Performance was flawless in every way except the lead singer who played Marguerite, the object of Faust's lust, just couldn't sing. Her voice was absolutely horrible with no redeeming qualities. Moriarty wondered why he even bother coming with such abuse of true music going on. He glanced across the theater to the sight of a man sitting in the back of his box. His face was masked by the shadow. His posture spoke of boredom and annoyance towards the whole affair. Moriarty watched as it raised it's hand and made a fist.  
  
Suddenly a horrible sound emitted from the stage. The actress playing Marguerite turned a bright red from making such a sound. The whole theater was dead silent. The singer composed herself and began to sing again. The fist unfurled and then closed again. Another croak was heard. A low chuckle echoed through the theater as the audience sat transfixed. The singer tried to continue on, but only croaks were coming out of her mouth as demonstrated by the fisting of the hand. A loud laughter rang through the theater.  
  
"Behold, her singing will bring down the chandelier." A dark voice announced loudly. Moriarty looked up to see the chandelier begin to rumble and shake as the young lady continued to sing. Finally she broke down crying. The chandelier began to quiet down again.  
  
Moriarty watched as the elegant man from earlier stood on the edge of the box next to his and shouted out loudly, "Who are you? Show yourself! I the Count of de Chagny demand it!"  
  
"A murderer dares call me out." The voice laughed, "What will you do if I don't comply, Monsieur? Shot me like you did before?"  
  
A hush fell over the crowd. The Count visibly paled at that declaration.  
  
"No it's not possible!"  
  
The figure sitting in the box across from Moriarty stood up and gracefully walked towards the front. It stepped short revealing what exactly they looked like. Moriarty could swear it was smiling.  
  
"I can quite assure you that I am who I claim to be. With all your money, Count, you can avoid all the trouble you caused. Except here. Here I rule. You have no power here."  
  
The Count went from shaken to defiant, "Prove it. Only cowards hid in shadows."  
  
"Since you asked so kindly."  
  
With the ease of a cat, the figure leaped on to the railing of the box. It was crouched low so one couldn't see its features just yet. Slowly and with grace it straightened itself up, revealing its black evening clothes and cape. Soon it stood straight its masked face glared at the Count with intense hatred. The Count collapsed under such an intense gaze. The Phantom smiled sardonically.  
  
"May haps a little warning is in order. Stay out of MY opera." The figure declared as it pulled out a cane and pointed it at the now calm chandelier. The chandelier quivered as the cane locked on to it.  
  
With a quick movement the figure snapped the cane towards the stage. A tremor passed through it. Then it began to fall. Screams were heard from the audience as it passed over their heads and crashed right into an empty stage. Moriarty stood up to see the damage. As he did, he spotted Sherlock standing as he looked at the now empty box.  
  
Moriarty realized something. The Phantom was alive and well. The Count didn't kill him. Maybe this trip won't be a waste after all. He watched the pandemonium that was happening down below with a smile. He had to find the man who caused this.  
  
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Sherlock pushed his way through the crowd toward the stair way to the box where the Phantom appeared. Behind him, he could hear Lestrade ordering people out of their way or at least trying to. They must reach that box before any vital clues disappear. He took the stairs two at a time. He glanced to see Beth Lestrade matching his pace. Tossing her a smile, they reached the door of Box Five. They walked in to find that the box was empty.  
  
"Zed, how did he leave?" Lestrade grumbled, "We would have seen him leave."  
  
"Eyes and brains, my dear Lestrade." Holmes stated as they swept the box, "However it appears as if he has slipped away for now. Do you think the Chief Inspector can seal this box for us until tomorrow?"  
  
"I think he can, Holmes. We need to ask him."  
  
"Then let's, before anyone else thinks to look here."  
  
They made their way to the main lobby. Leroux was directing people out the main doors, trying to have order out of chaos. Holmes noticed that the New Paris police were swarming in. He turned to go down the stairs when Lestrade grabbed his arm. She pointed to a young man with long dark brown hair. He was dressed in old fashion evening clothes. He stared intently at one the portraits that hung in the lobby. When the police had emptied in to the main he turned away from the picture and walked out of their line of sight back towards the main stage.  
  
"Beth! Sherlock!" Leroux shouted as he came up the stairs, "Any luck?"  
  
"No, uncle. But could you see if someone could seal Box five for us?"  
  
"Of Course. Come, we better let the detectives do their work. I have convinced the managers to see us in the morning. The Count is certainly angry about The Phantom being back." Leroux remarked, "They are particular eager to see you, Mr. Holmes."  
  
Holmes made a non- committal sound as he searched for some sign of the young man. As they got closer to the ground floor, he could see one face from another. Leroux made a clear path for them through the crowd. Watson had already hail a hover cab when they reached him. Leroux helped them in, with a promise that he would call when he knew what was going on. Leroux watched them leave when Nadir approached him.  
  
"Was that who I think it was?" Nadir asked.  
  
"Yes, Khan. It was."  
  
"This is a dangerous game you brought them into."  
  
"They can help, if you let them."  
  
"Are you sure that they can? The Phantom won't see it that way."  
  
"The Phantom can see it anyway the Phantom wants. The Count is screaming for his blood. It won't be long before he persuades the Commissioner to start the hunt."  
  
"You know, I pity the fool who going in there and picks a fight with something that they don't understand."  
  
Nadir smiled as he turned away and began to walk away towards La Rue Scribe. Leroux watched him leave silently. What is going to happen now? 


	3. Chapter 3

MW: Hey. Thanks for the reviews everyone. Those that asked me to check out theirs, I have to say: They are awesome. Here is Chapter 3. Hopefully by next chapter, we will see some more Phantom action and The Count will begin to play a bigger part. There will be some H/L coming. Enjoy.  
  
P.S: JAKA Ray, I hope you like the sitch I set up with L & S. Comedy will be a little subtle in this fic. On with the show.  
  
Masquerade Chapter 3- Meeting of the minds I  
  
The papers the next morning recounted the events from the night before. They proclaimed with pride that their Phantom was back. A few tried to dredge up the last time a chandelier crashed in the Paris Opera House only to be refuted by the idea that no one injured this time. The stage had been thankfully cleared at the time of the disaster.  
  
The Phantom smiled ironically. It had been afraid that the public would side against it for pulling that little stunt. However, it was being praise for ending the worst performance Paris had ever seen of Faust. Well, The Phantom was happy to be of service. The Phantom folded up its paper as a lilac point Siamese cat jumped onto its lap. The Phantom chuckled as it scratched the cat's ears.  
  
"Well, Ayesha, how does one follow an act like that?" The Phantom mused.  
  
The cat mewed softly as the Phantom continued to stroke her. The Phantom glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was 10:05; the singers would be practicing now. The Phantom smiled down at the cat.  
  
"Shall we go and see the result of last night's little adventure?" The Phantom asked. The cat mewed back in response. The Phantom stood up and went to go change. Ayesha was following close behind.  
  
*********88888888888888888**********************************************  
  
"Really? Monsieur Holmes, I can assure you that we don't need your help in this matter of the Phantom. Our own security force is handling this." A young woman stated firmly, "Our family has run this opera house for several years."  
  
"Madame Firmin, I can assure you I am not here to harm your friend in any way." Holmes remarked gently trying to assure the woman.  
  
"It's not just that. Our actors and crew will not deal well with this interference. You will have a difficult time getting them to cooperate." A young man stated quietly.  
  
"Thank you for the concern, Monsieur Firmin." Lestrade smiled charmingly, "We'll deal with things as they come."  
  
"If you are going to run around this place looking for trouble, let me give you one piece of advice. When in the basement, keep your hands at the level of your eyes." Madame Firmin sighed.  
  
"Also if you do meet up with The Phantom, be polite. He reacts to kindness." Monsieur Firmin added.  
  
"Thank you both for your time and advice." Holmes smirked as he stood up. Everyone else in the room stood up as well. Sherlock tipped his hat to them as he and Lestrade left the room. Once in the hallway, Lestrade turned to Sherlock.  
  
"They certainly weren't much help." Lestrade huffed, "What do you think they meant by keep our hands at the level of our eyes?"  
  
Sherlock thought about it before sighing, "I'm not sure, but I think the stage crew will know the answer to that. They should be still cleaning the stage area. I suggest we look there."  
  
Lestrade agreed and they walked towards the stage area. Nadir stepped out of the shadows and glared after them. This wasn't good. He began to follow them when Madame Giry walked up.  
  
"Nadir, Mademoiselle Calotte is threatening to quit the Opera." Giry smiled.  
  
"That's not good news. The Count will try to pursue the Phantom more strongly." Nadir grumbled, "Try to convince her to stay."  
  
"The Phantom can handle the Count."  
  
"Yeah, he did once. Remember how splendid that turned out." Nadir sneered, "Now I have to take care of some business. Madame Giry, please take care. There are ears and eyes everywhere now."  
  
*****************88888888888888888888***********************************  
  
Josef Buquet smiled as he checked the rigging high above the stage. Below several workmen continued to clean up the shattered glass. He turned to tug on a suspicious rope when he felt someone joined his side. Buquet smiled wider.  
  
"I'm sorry, Buquet, for messing up your stage." The Phantom apologized.  
  
"After seeing the look on that fool's face, it's worth it. You haven't played with my ropes yet, have you?" Buquet joked.  
  
"No, Monsieur. I figure the chandelier was trouble enough."  
  
"I hear The Count is calling for your blood over this."  
  
"I'll give him my blade instead."  
  
"It seems the police have called in Sherlock Holmes for this."  
  
"Really? Nadir mentioned something like that last night. Do you think he will help their investigation?"  
  
"Who knows? I found out who was at the crypt the other night."  
  
"Continue."  
  
"According to The Underground, he has been searching for you for several weeks now. He is a famous criminal in New London."  
  
"Stop stalling, Buquet. I want a name."  
  
"Professor James Moriarty."  
  
The Phantom grew silent as it gazed down towards the stage. Sherlock and Lestrade had just approached the work men. The Phantom smiled as several of them gave them the cold shoulder. Loyalty was something it didn't have to worry about. It looked a little farther to see Nadir watching them intently for the shadows. He was getting better at that. It turned to Buquet.  
  
"It seems I have become quite popular lately. Buquet, I must take leave of you."  
  
"Ah, just as I was going to put you to work. Farewell, my child." Buquet smiled as the Phantom jumped into the ropes. Buquet looked down to see the workmen giving the detectives a hard time. He didn't mind it except they were neglecting their work.  
  
"Hey, you lazy bones, ignore the pretty woman and get back to work! I want that chandelier cleared away by noon! We have a rehearsal tonight!" he shouted from his perch. Several men turned back to the job on hand. A few were being stubborn. Buquet growled loudly, "Move it! Or I'll give you to Punjab Lasso!"  
  
The few defiant ones paled and returned to their work. Buquet smiled, nothing like the Lasso to get them back to work. He looked towards the outsiders who were looking up at him. Buquet sighed. He should probably go down and make himself known. Nadir's stare hardened and Buquet reconsidered his position. Maybe they were better off not knowing.  
  
************************8888888888**************************************  
  
After a few more hours, Lestrade and Holmes found themselves back in the lobby. They had no luck with interviewing any one from the Company. They were blown off or threatened in some vague fashion. The few that did talk to them did so in hush tones. Lestrade noticed an Arabian man following them. She wondered if Holmes did too.  
  
"I think we hit a dead end with the company. No one wants to talk." Lestrade commented, "Where is Watson?"  
  
"I asked him to sit in Box Five and scan it for any DNA. He should be coming in a moment." Sherlock answered as he tried to find the painting from last night, "Ah there it is."  
  
Lestrade looked at what Holmes was happy to find. She walked over with him staring at a portrait of a beautiful woman. Her hair was chestnut brown and very curly. It's styled in a beautiful coiffure and tied with a black ribbon. She standing by a chair and had a coy, yet charming smile aimed at the viewer. Her dress was black and styled like a ballerina gown. Around her neck hung a simple chain with a gold ring on it. Her eyes however seemed sad. The brilliance of her blue eyes seemed dim as if she carried a dark secret. One could see she was quite young. Lestrade wondered who she was.  
  
"Ah, I see you have found her portrait." A deep voice joked from behind them. They recognized the voice from earlier in the rafters. Lestrade and Holmes turned to see a middle age man with a bandana wrapped around his balding head. He was dressed in a worn shirt and jeans. The man stopped in front of them.  
  
"Do you know who she is?" Lestrade asked.  
  
"Of Course, any one in Paris know her. This is the famous diva Christine Daae-Noir. She sung for the Opera House in the 1890's." The man smiled, "My name is Josef Buquet, the stage manger."  
  
"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock shook his hand.  
  
"Inspector Beth Lestrade." Lestrade offered her hand. Buquet gripped it gently and kissed it softly.  
  
"Un plaisir, beau Manquer." Buquet murmured as he released it, "I'm sorry for not coming down earlier and for my workers' behavior."  
  
"We have seen a lot of it." Lestrade sighed.  
  
"Perhaps you can assist us, Monsieur Buquet." Sherlock suggested.  
  
"Alas, I can not. If you want a warmer reception, I suggest that you meet with The Phantom first. He tends to open a few doors." Buquet smiled.  
  
"Maybe you can." Lestrade started when she was interrupted by a shout. Buquet paled at the sound of the voice.  
  
"Josef Buquet!" A voice shouted.  
  
"Dieu m'aide." Buquet groaned before turning towards the approaching woman. Lestrade was reminded of a cornered criminal or husband. The woman walked up to Buquet. Buquet smiled as charmingly as he could. A smack was heard through the hall.  
  
"That will teach you for what you did." The woman gruffed.  
  
"Mon Dieu, At least tell me what I did." He grumbled.  
  
"That's for taping up one of the dressing rooms." The woman remarked.  
  
Buquet broke into a bright smile, "Mademoiselle Calotte's room. I glued it, Madame Giry, not taped it."  
  
Lestrade suppressed a laugh while Sherlock grinned. Giry wasn't pleased by this. She was fuming.  
  
"I only just stopped her from quitting." Giry growled.  
  
"Now why did you do a fool thing like that?" Buquet frowned.  
  
"Because Nadir thinks and I agree that it will keep the Count off our backs."  
  
"Well, I had help." Buquet grinned wistfully, "In fact, it was his idea. The Phantom comes up with some dozes."  
  
"Well, you get back there and unglue it." Giry barked, "I'll have a word with the Phantom about this."  
  
"Like he'll listen." Buquet chuckled, "Until we meet again, Monsieur and Mademoiselle."  
  
Giry gave them a dark look as she dragged Buquet away. Lestrade smiled to Sherlock, who smiled back. Watson tipped his hat to M. Giry as she and Buquet past him. He bounded up to Holmes.  
  
"Watson, where have you been?" Sherlock asked.  
  
"I just spent the past hour talking with a most helpful young lady. She is very knowledgeable about the Opera House. Most polite." Watson stated.  
  
"Really? Where did you meet her?" Lestrade asked. Any one who was willing to help was someone to keep track of.  
  
"Well, she found me. I was sitting in Box Five like you told me to when she walked in. She seemed surprise to see me. After I assured her that I meant no harm, she sat with me and we just talked. She was very nice to me; she seemed fascinated that I was a free willed robot." Watson related, "She had a very impressive voice. When I commented on an aria from Faust, she told me that I need to hear it sung by someone with talent. I asked her to sing if she could, she sung it. I wonder why she didn't perform that night. She would have been a wonderful Marguerite."  
  
"Did you get her name?" Lestrade asked.  
  
"Um, no. She had to leave for practice before I could ask it." Watson sighed.  
  
"What did she look like?" Lestrade pestered.  
  
Watson looked at the painting and pointed to it, "Just like that except her skin was a little tanner."  
  
"I wonder what happened to her. She seems troubled in this painting." Sherlock wondered as he stared Miss Daae. He turned and put on a bright smile, "I suggest we retreat for the evening. Obviously The Phantom doesn't see fit to allow us any secrets today."  
  
As the three left, a masked figure watched them from the shadows. It smiled widely. It gazed at them as they left. The figure stepped out the shadows and laughed.  
  
"Oh but I have Monsieur Holmes. One more awaits you when you arrive at your hotel." It chuckled before blending back into the shadows.  
  
***************8888888888888888888888***********************************  
  
"WHAT?!" Lestrade shouted when they returned to the hotel. The Manager flinched at her tone. He had the unfortunate job of informing her that her room had been evacuated due to a police operation. Her things were placed in the other room that was booked under her name until she returned. Holmes paled but remained very quiet as Lestrade ranted at the poor manager.  
  
"I'm sorry Mademoiselle. It can't be helped. Perhaps, if you and the Monsieur double up until we can find another room." The manager squeaked.  
  
Lestrade was about to start yelling when Holmes stopped her, "Come, Lestrade. The situation could be worse. It's hardly his fault that we now are roommates."  
  
Lestrade took a breath and sighed, "I guess. I want my room back as soon as they are done."  
  
"Of course, mademoiselle, of course." The manager smiled glad that the storm was over. He handed the extra key to the room to her. She snatched it away. The manager began to shake again. Holmes smiled mischievously as he led her away to their room.  
  
That night, Lestrade grumbled as she got ready for bed. She could believe she was rooming with Holmes. Before she could stop it her heart did a small flip at the thought of sharing a room with Holmes. Lestrade scowled. He was her partner and friend. It would be extremely unprofessional to be anything else.  
  
One can't be professional all the time, a small voice in her head commented.  
  
Lestrade wondered briefly where that came from. She needed to stay professional now. They were tracking someone who could be very dangerous. She needed to stay on her toes. After giving herself that little pep talk, she walked out of the bathroom. And nearly ran back in.  
  
Holmes was standing at the window, looking out at all of Paris. Lestrade could easily make out his profile as he regarded to bright city. He turned his blue grey eyes towards her. Lestrade felt her knees go weak. Quickly she decided to break the mood.  
  
"So what's on the agenda tomorrow?" Lestrade asked.  
  
"I was thinking of learning a little bit about our Phantom from the Opera's library. There must some clue as to who it is. I'm also intrigued as to why the Count hates him so much." Sherlock informed her.  
  
"It seems to be mutual in this case." Watson spoke up from his seat in the corner. Lestrade nearly jumped. She had forgotten the robot was there.  
  
"Well, nearly being killed will do that to a person. I can check out what the Parisian police will have on it." Lestrade suggested, "Surely the DNA scans of the bloodstained cloak will tell us something."  
  
"I also think that we should pay a visit to the cemetery that Chief Inspector Leroux spoke of when we arrive."  
  
"Whatever for, Holmes?"  
  
"Eyes and brains. Moriarty was very interested in a crypt there. It may provide some clue to who is really behind the mask. But for now, we will need some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day." Sherlock yawned as he walked towards his bed. Lestrade followed his lead and called for the lights to turn off. Everyone settled down for the night.  
  
*********************************88888888888888888888888****************  
  
Buquet confidently sat at the bar. It was a dingy place where the worst of Paris frequented. He couldn't believe Nadir convinced him to play messenger. Not that Nadir was too happy about it either, but The Phantom wanted to know why everyone wanted him. Buquet took another sip of his drink. At least, he wasn't alone. Somewhere among the crowd was The Phantom, hidden well enough that no one would spot him. The Phantom wanted to be close enough in case Buquet required assistance. He finished his drink and signaled the droid behind the bar that he wanted another. Soon a body dropped in the seat next to him.  
  
"Bon soir, Monsieur." Buquet remarked softly.  
  
"I hear you can deliver a message to the Phantom of The Opera." The man asked.  
  
Buquet considered his glass, "I guess so. I hear you can deliver a message to Professor Moriarty."  
  
"It seems we both have a message to deliver." The man laughed.  
  
"Ah. But mine will override yours." Buquet smiled gently, "The Phantom knows he wants to meet with him. Have Professor come to Le Restaurant d'Harmonie on the La Rue Scribe at about 8 o'clock. He will not need a disguise since the table will be in one of the separate dining meeting rooms. However, if he wants to wear one he can."  
  
"Is that your message?" The man asked and continued at Buquet curt nod, "The Professor will want the Phantom to come unmasked as well."  
  
"I'm sure The Phantom will agree to that term." Buquet chuckled quietly, "Is that agreed?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
"Good, now I must report back to him. If there is a change in your master's plan, send a note to the Opera House." Buquet added as he stood from his chair. He didn't wait for the man to reply but walked out of the bar as quick as he could. The man glared at Buquet's retreating back. Then he sighed, his master won't like the Phantom's terms.  
  
Buquet walked quietly down the street. He seemed to be looking for someone. Soon a pair of footsteps joined him walking along side. Buquet didn't jump or acted shock. He was use to the Phantom's tricks by now.  
  
"Did he agree?" The Phantom asked.  
  
Buquet nodded, "At least his servant did. Only one condition though. He wants you to come unmasked since you want him to."  
  
"Interesting. I'll give it some thought. It'll be interesting to see his reaction to my appearance."  
  
"Just don't be too reckless. He seem like he could be a deadly enemy."  
  
"I will be careful. Now go home, Josef, before your wife worries."  
  
Josef tipped his hat at the Phantom and hailed a cab. The Phantom smiled as it began to head home. It had plans to make. 


	4. Chapter 4

Masquerade Chapter 4- Musical Interlude  
  
Lestrade sat at Leroux desk while she leafed through the old files. She read the report of The Phantom's supposed murder a few times to make sure she understood the details. A few things didn't add up.  
  
According the Count, he was walking down La Rue Scribe when he spotted a masked man manhandling a beautiful young woman. Being a gentleman, he walked up to assist the young woman. He and The Phantom struggled while the young woman got away. The phantom tried to pursue her and The Count shot him a few times. The Count had taken off The Phantom's cloak and was about to unmask the man when he was attacked again by an unknown assailant. He ran off and went straight to the police station. Something wasn't right.  
  
Beth sighed as she put down the affidavit and picked up the DNA report on the cape. Her brow furrowed as she read the results. Something definitely wasn't right. According to the report, three different DNA sequences were found on the cloak. One belonging to the Count was found in trace amounts. One of the others was found in massive amount and was conclude to belong to The Phantom. The last one was similar to the Phantom's DNA and was found in one spot in the front of the cloak. It was unidentified much like the Phantom's.  
  
But how could that be? Everyone's genetic profile was registered with the world's governments. It made for easy identifications of people who couldn't be identify otherwise. She puzzled over the matter that she didn't hear Leroux approach.  
  
"What's wrong, Beth?" He asked, snapping Lestrade out of her thoughts.  
  
"This DNA report. How could someone slip through the cracks like that?"  
  
Leroux thought for a moment and then answered, "Actually it's not that hard. When you are born your DNA is collected and catalogued for easy identification later. Hospitals and doctors are responsible for that. However that's assuming that every baby is born in a hospital or in the presence of a doctor."  
  
"Are you saying there are children who born with out medical assistance? Isn't that dangerous?"  
  
"It can be. But if there is a midwife present, then it's just like being in a hospital. Except there's no one to take the DNA sample. And when you try to get an ID on some?"  
  
"There isn't a match. So The Phantom really is a ghost to the outside world. Wait, there has to be a written birth record."  
  
Leroux smiled at his niece and nodded. He could at least point her in the right direction. He suggested, "A little bit of lying and someone could slip through the cracks."  
  
Lestrade smiled brightly, "I have to visit the Public Records office. If Sherlock or Watson come looking for me that's where I'll be."  
  
Before Leroux could answer, she was out the door. He smiled wider. She was just like her father.  
  
*******************88888888888888888888*********************************  
  
Since no one was at the Opera House today. Nadir descended into the depths of the theater. He walked slowly and silently so no one could follow him. His one arm was raised to the level of his eyes. He soon came to the fifth cellar and stared at the lake that appeared before him. Lowering his arm, he walked to an awaiting boat. As he was about to set sail when a figure jumped out at him.  
  
"Boo!" The figure shouted. Nadir was so startled; he lost his balance and fell over board into the lake. Musical laughter echoed over the lake. Nadir glared at his masked friend. He stood up and went to walk towards the laughing Phantom. Only the lake had other ideas when he fell down face first into the murky waters. The Phantom laughed even harder.  
  
"Nadir, you should see yourself." The Phantom chuckled softly.  
  
"You are not funny, Noir." Nadir growled when he finally got his balance back. The Phantom smiled brightly from the boat. It flicked a lock of its long dark hair over its shoulder.  
  
"So, what did you find out?" The Phantom asked.  
  
"I'm not sure if I should tell you now."  
  
"Ah, come on. You always did hold a grudge. I remember when we were in school."  
  
"So do I. You always got us into trouble."  
  
"You always got us out. So what is happening in the mortal realm?"  
  
"Fine, Monsieur Holmes spent the day in the library researching your family history. I think he has discovered the connection between the Noirs and the de Chagnies."  
  
"We'll see how good he is if he could tie it to our present situation. Continue."  
  
"Inspector Lestrade has been investigating your father's demise or at least that what I overheard Holmes telling that robot who was with him."  
  
"Ah, Watson."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The robot's name is Watson. He is very polite."  
  
"You met him?!"  
  
"Not directly, if you catch my drift."  
  
"Unfortunately I do. Calotte quit today after someone taped her dressing room door shut."  
  
"Actually it was glued shut."  
  
"You had a part in it, didn't you?"  
  
"I made the glue, old friend. And the solvent that we used to open the door back up. It was my strongest yet."  
  
"Mon Dieu. I hope you never walk on the side of the devils. The world won't survive it."  
  
The Phantom rolled its eyes, "Whatever. How did the Count take it?"  
  
"He was very upset with the company. However he isn't backing down either. He is demanding that the Firmins find the culprit."  
  
"Right. Like they can."  
  
"I'm not going there since they pay my bills." Nadir stated firmly, "I also want to register my complaint about your plan tonight."  
  
"What's wrong with it now?"  
  
"I don't want you to put yourself in foolish danger. Moriarty is a dangerous criminal mastermind."  
  
"He is also seeking me. Nadir, how long until he starts showing up at the Opera looking for me? Before things start to happen and innocents are killed or injured because he wants to lure me out?"  
  
"A noble sentiment from someone who claims to be born in darkness."  
  
"And I will die in darkness. But that doesn't mean others will have to suffer my fate."  
  
"I just don't trust him."  
  
"He is like Holmes, a Victorian Gentleman. He may be on the wrong side of the law, but he is still a gentleman. So am I. I think I can make it through dinner with him. Don't worry, Nadir, neither do I. That's why I want you and Danesh to be present in case anything happens."  
  
Nadir sighed as he stood on the shore, "You think of everything, don't you?"  
  
The Phantom only smiled, "Now I have to get ready for my meeting. I will see you there at about 7:30."  
  
"I don't have a choice, do I?"  
  
The Phantom laughed, "None, old friend."  
  
With that said the Phantom set sail across the lake towards its home. Nadir shook his head. Little water drops fell from it. Nadir sighed, he should hurry home to change and convince his partner to join him later on. He started back up the stairs.  
  
*******************888888888888*****************************************  
  
Sherlock shifted through the old books in the Opera's library. He glanced at his watch. The Arabian man hadn't been by in awhile. That was a good thing. Holmes didn't like the feeling of being watched intently when he worked. In fact, he nearly figured out who the original Phantom was and how he got to live in the Opera House.  
  
Erik Noir was a genius of a man with only one problem; his was horrible disfigured in the face. He enjoyed music and poured his heart into the construction of the Opera House. According to the archives, that Erik disappeared shortly before the Opera House was complete. The records do not devolve what his fate was. Holmes has a hunch about what happened to him. The events that took place fifteen years later proved it to him.  
  
Sherlock even learned about the fate of Miss Daae. She died after a performance of a rare affliction. However, no one even knew that she was sick. He remembered hearing her in London during one of her rare trips outside of Paris. She was a true artist with her ability to become the character and emulate their thoughts and feeling to the audience. Sherlock closed his eyes and he could still hear her voice sing The Jewel Song from Faust. The song changed from the aria to a slow song. He frowned when he could place the song. Suddenly he realized that it wasn't a memory that the song was coming from. Someone was singing it now. Intrigued, he followed the voice.  
  
/ You are sunlight And I moon Joined by the gods Of Fortune Mid night and high noon Sharing the sky We have been blessed You and I /  
  
Sherlock walked out on to the giant stage. The beautiful voice echoed all around him. Mesmerized he tried to figure out where it came from. He looked up at the catwalk trying to see if someone was up there. Nothing but the ropes greeted his sight. The song continued softly. Sherlock thought he saw a flicker of movement off in the opposite wing. Sherlock ran towards it.  
  
/ You came here like a mystery I'm from a world That so different from All that you are How in the light of One night did we come so far /  
  
As Sherlock turned a corner, he crashed into Watson. Both steadied themselves. Watson straightened his cloak. The voice continued to sing its song.  
  
"Holmes I was just looking for you. Inspector Lestrade just contacted me." Watson started.  
  
"Watson, Can you tell me where that voice is coming from?" Sherlock asked quickly.  
  
"Of course, Holmes." Watson stated seriously and pause before answering, "The lobby area, it's a female by it's atonement."  
  
"Come we don't have a moment to lose. We yet met the Opera Ghost."  
  
Sherlock took off for the lobby area. Watson sighed as best he could and followed. He didn't know what was so special about finding out who was singing. Being a robot, he was immune to the spell that the singer was weaving.  
  
/ Outside day starts to dawn Your moon still floats on high The birds awake The stars still shine My hands still shake I reach for you And we meet in the sky /  
  
Sherlock reached the lobby in record time. He froze to see a young woman dressed in a long black dress walk through the lobby singing. She paused in her song. Sherlock felt himself begin to surface from the spell he was under. He hadn't felt that way since Miss Daae's performance centuries ago. The woman turned towards the Painting of Miss Daae. Sherlock could see her hair was a dark brown color in style on her head similar to Miss Daae's and secured with a black ribbon. He was a bout to walk towards her when she turned towards him. Her face was identical to Miss Daae's, right down to her startling blue eyes. The woman smiled at him and finished her song.  
  
/ You are sunlight And I moon Joined here Brightening the sky With the flame Of love Made of sunlight Moonlight /  
  
Sherlock blinked and found the woman to be gone. Watson joined his side momentarily. Sherlock pushed a hand through his sandy blonde hair. Was there two Phantoms running around? The Phantom himself and Christine Daae. Two different entities haunting the same place trying to find each other. Sherlock looked at Watson.  
  
"I suppose you didn't see the woman leave, did you?" Sherlock asked  
  
"No, Holmes." Watson answered, "Now Inspector Lestrade has found some things of interest that may help. She is waiting for us at the hotel."  
  
"Of course, let me get my things from the library." Holmes stated as he began to walk away. He took one last look at the lobby for any sign of the woman. Finding nothing he walked away with Watson by his side.  
  
****************888888888888888888888888888*****************************  
  
Moriarty in a disguise entered Le Restaurant d'Harmonie at 8 o'clock. The Restaurant was fashioned with a dance floor in the center which was surrounded by table. To the left of the door was a set of stairs that lead to the second floor dining area. The place was packed with customers. Many were members of local theater groups including the Paris opera Company. A young man with wavy brown hair walked up to him.  
  
"Can I help you, Monsieur?" The young man asked.  
  
"I'm here to meet with some one from The Opera House?" Moriarty remarked carefully, not sure how much to reveal. The man understood and frowned.  
  
"Are you a professor?" The man questioned and when Moriarty nodded, he sighed, "Your host asked me to look out for you. Please follow me."  
  
The young man walked through the tables to a secluded area led to several rooms. A few had a heavy curtain drawn closed to give their occupants some privacy. Moriarty had to acknowledge The Phantom's wisdom of picking a secluded place. The man stood to the side when they reached a small room lit by candlelight. Moriarty stepped in and nearly dropped through the floor. Sitting at the table, absorbed in a book, sat a striking young woman with dark brown hair.  
  
Moriarty turned to the young man and grabbed his by his shirt, "Where is The Phantom?"  
  
"Monsieur, please this where he should be?" The young stammered.  
  
"Put him down, Professuer Moriarty. He didn't lead you to the wrong place." The woman spoke softly. Moriarty dropped the man intrigued by the woman's statement. As he walked back into the room, he could see a small smile playing around her mouth. She put her book down and picked her glass of white wine.  
  
"Please sit, Professuer Moriarty. It seems we have much to discuss." she stated before taking a sip of her wine, "I hope you don't mind but I order a bottle of vintage Pinot Grigio. If you would prefer something else, do not hesitate to ask for it."  
  
"I would like to know who you are for starters." Moriarty demanded as he sat down. Her eyes met his and Moriarty had a feeling of déjà vu.  
  
"My name is Erika Noir." Erika smiled as she extended her hand to him. Moriarty gently took it, unsure of how to play it. Finally breeding broke through and he placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Erika's cheeks were tinged pink when she pulled it back. Her next words brought a small smile to his lips.  
  
"I'm glad to meet a man with good manners and I'm not related to him for once." Erika grinned.  
  
"The last time I kissed a woman's hand, I got called a clone head." Moriarty stated.  
  
"That's a shame." Erika sighed, "There are so little people in the world have class."  
  
Moriarty nodded and decided to change the subject, "Now I was led to believe that the Phantom was going to meet me. Where is he?"  
  
Erika smiled in a mysterious way like she knew something he didn't, "The Phantom decided last minute that he couldn't put himself at risk with the Count currently calling for his blood. So he asked me to meet with you and give you a message."  
  
With that said Erika reached into her purse and pulled out a letter. She handed to Moriarty. Moriarty took it and began to open it eager to read what the Phantom had to say. He stopped himself. It would be rude to ignore Erika. Erika seemed to know where his thoughts lay and motioned that he continue with his task. Moriarty smiled his thanks and opened the letter. He scanned it twice and sighed. Folding it back up, he looked at Erika again. The Phantom made his feelings quite clear. Moriarty cleared his throat to get her attention. Erika back at him and sat a little straighter.  
  
"I'm sorry. Someone I don't particular care for walked in." Erika said calmly as she picked up her wine again.  
  
Moriarty nodded and decided to continue on with his plan, "The Phantom has great confidence in you. He informed me to talk to you as if I was talking to him."  
  
Erika smirked, "It must be hard for you to treat a woman as an equal."  
  
It was Moriarty's turn to smirk, "Not at all. I learned early, never underestimate anyone not matter their gender."  
  
"I stand corrected. Sorry. What is troubling you about this arrangement?"  
  
"I prefer to make my proposal in person."  
  
"In The Phantom's presence? You'll get your chance; if you can convince me he should accept it. Think of me as the door to the Phantom."  
  
"An interesting analogy."  
  
"But true. Now tell me why you are seeking the Phantom."  
  
Before Moriarty could answer a shadow fell across the table. Standing in the doorway was a tall blonde haired man. He was dressed in what would pass for high fashion these days. He was smiling charmingly, but it never reached his eyes. He was focused solely on Erika. Erika flashed Moriarty a reassuring smile before she turned to face the man. Her eyes narrowed on the young man. They stared at each other for a longtime. Tension filled that small room.  
  
The man spoke up first, "Erika, what a pleasant surprise. I thought you were dead."  
  
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A/N: The song is "Sun and Moon" from the opera, Miss Saigon. 


	5. Chapter 5

MW: Hey, Here is chapter 5. The song in here is sung by Sarah Brightman and is called Figlio Perduto (Lost Son). There is going to be some romance for Moriarty coming up. Tell me what you think.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 5- Double Vision  
  
"No thanks to you, Ruelle, or should I address you more formally as The Count de Chagny." Erika replied sweetly to The Count.  
  
"Ruelle will do since we have known each other for a long time." Ruelle smiled charmingly. Moriarty noted that it didn't cover up the glint of hate in his eyes.  
  
"Don't remind me. It's time I wish I could take back. Now if you don't mind I prefer to enjoy my meal and company." Erika dismissed him easily like The Count was nothing.  
  
The Count's grin disappeared. Moriarty took note of how coldly he glared at Erika. Erika turned her attention to Moriarty. Her blue eyes blazed with passion when she smiled at him. Moriarty smiled back. He was starting to like her style. Erika reached for her glass when the Count grabbed her wrist and turned her towards him.  
  
"Don't ever dismiss me like that again." The Count growled into her face.  
  
Erika's face went stony real quick. Moriarty was on his feet quickly and ready to grab the foolish count. Suddenly, Erika tossed something into the Count's face. The Count Screamed in pain as the substance came in contact with his eyes. Erika rubbed her wrist as she stood next to Moriarty. Balanced between two fingers was a small vial.  
  
"I would suggest Ruelle You get to your feet and go to the men's bathroom and wash your eyes out. That substance won't permanently damage anything. However, I can do some permanent damage if you want." Erika promised coldly.  
  
"You will pay." Ruelle vowed as he stumbled to his feet.  
  
"You can't do anything worse than you already have." Erika stated with no emotion in her voice.  
  
Moriarty spoke up for the first time, taking a step towards the temporarily blinded Count, "I strongly suggest you leave now while you can with dignity before I throw you out."  
  
Erika gave him a mischievous grin and a wink, "Thank you, James. You are too kind."  
  
"This isn't the end, Erika. I'll wipe you and your kin off the face of this planet." The Count bellowed before staggering away.  
  
Erika stared hard after the Count. Her fist clenched in front of her. Moriarty watched her closely. Obviously there was bad blood between the Count and Erika's family. Almost as bad as the feud between the Count and The Phantom. Moriarty wondered if Erika was related to the Phantom. He decided he would broach the idea once they were back to their table.  
  
"Shall we?" Moriarty suggested to her. Erika turned and walked back the room. She waited for Moriarty join her before closing the curtains. She turned to see Moriarty standing by his seat waiting for her to sit first. A small smile played around her mouth at the thought of him playing the gentleman again. Elegantly she sat back down and watched Moriarty sit as well. Erika's mind compared his movements to that of a black panther. Sleek and lethal, he was a force not to be reckoned with.  
  
"As I was saying before the interruption, I have a proposal for your friend, The Phantom." Moriarty stated. At Erika's nod, he continued, "I would like to form an alliance with him."  
  
Erika raised a brow at this. She thought for a minute before speaking, "What do you have to offer the Phantom?"  
  
"I can give him wealth, power, or a place in my world order when I take over the world." Moriarty declared.  
  
"That's not good enough. The Phantom has no need for more money. He has all he needs. Power isn't a necessity either. He rules The Opera House and that's all he really wants. If you mean criminal world connection, well, he won't want them. It'll make it to easy to track him." Erika pointed out, "And pardon my frankness, but you are a long ways off for world domination. He won't bite."  
  
"What would you suggest that I do, Ms. Noir?" Moriarty growled.  
  
Erika smiled, "Research. Find out what The Phantom values the most and try to deliver that. That's my advice to you. I'm sorry if that puts you behind."  
  
Moriarty considered this. He could be a patient man if he had to be. Erika seemed to be willing to help him or give him clues. Maybe he could make one request of her.  
  
"Will you deliver a message to The Phantom for me?" Moriarty asked.  
  
"Of course. What would like me to tell him?"  
  
"Tell him my proposal and that if I can prove his identity, he must accept my proposal."  
  
"And if he refuses?"  
  
"Then I will track him down and convince him through any means necessary." Moriarty promised, "I'm not a violent man, but I will resort to it if it gets me what I want."  
  
"A sentiment shared by all humans." Erika noted, "Where would like him to send his reply?"  
  
"Have him post it the New London Times classified section. I will look for his response in a few days."  
  
"Very well, I will let him know."  
  
"Now with that out of the way, may ask you one question before we must part ways?"  
  
"You just did." Erika smiled as she gathered her things.  
  
"Are you and the Phantom related?"  
  
Moriarty smirked at her shocked expression as she looked at him. She looked away as she answered.  
  
"We are closer than you will ever know. I will never be able to break away from him as easily as you can a relation." Erika informed him. Moriarty froze as she looked him in the eye and told him, "Ours is bond that can't be broken easily even by Death."  
  
Moriarty watched silently as Erika stood up and walked over to the drawn curtain. With one hand on the curtains, she turned and shot him a sly smile.  
  
"Besides, he saved my life from the Count." Erika informed him before disappearing behind the curtain.  
  
Moriarty sat there. He knew he should follow her to make sure she was safe from the deranged count. However, he had a feeling she could handle him. He smirked as he remembered her agility with the powder. Wracking his brain, he tried to remember where he seen such speed in a female. Lestrade was fast but this Erika moved like a cheetah or a trained cat, fast and with a special kind of grace. And her eyes, he knew he had seen her eyes before. But where?  
  
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Holmes and Lestrade walked through the darken cemetery. The Silver Moonlight made several of the headstones glow. They both were wearing heavy woolen cloaks to ward against the night air. Beth stayed close to Sherlock's side. Something wasn't right here. She felt Sherlock slip his hand into hers and give it a squeeze. Beth felt a little better.  
  
"So," Sherlock started, "How are you and chief Inspector Leroux related?"  
  
"We're not." Beth shrugged, "He was my father's best friend since their school days. My father and he worked together for years when I was growing up. He has always been Uncle Etienne since I was little. When Dad died, he came over to help my mother. Raise me and has every summer until I entered The Academy."  
  
Holmes nodded as they walked, "That explains a lot. Now, The Crypt should be straight ahead."  
  
Lestrade smiled, "Good. I never liked cemeteries, especially at night."  
  
"Afraid something is going to jump out at you, my dear Lestrade?" Sherlock smiled at her. His eyes gleamed with a mischievous look. Lestrade smiled in spite of herself and shook her head. She was about to respond when a high pitched scream ripped through the silent night.  
  
The two turned towards the direction of the scream. With out a word, they hurried towards the sound. The Moon shone bright, guiding their way. They stopped at the sight of a figure draped in black. In its hand was a gun. Lestrade pulled out her ionser and took aim.  
  
"Freeze! This is the police!" Lestrade yelled. The figure turned to them. Its features were hidden by a white mask. One Thought entered their mind. It's the Phantom. Lestrade lowered her weapon in shock. The figure turned and ran into the night. Lestrade took off after it.  
  
"Lestrade, stop!" Sherlock shouted as he started after her.  
  
He stopped at the sight of a young woman lying on the ground. He bent over her checking for a pulse and found none. He pulled out a communicator and called Watson. He informed Watson of what had happened and to contact the police. As he put the communicator away, Sherlock felt something was watching him. He turned quickly and stared right into the bright blue eyes of another darkly dressed figure. Sherlock pulled out his cane.  
  
"Who are you?" Sherlock asked. The figure didn't answer or move. Its stared at Sherlock angrily.  
  
"Why are you here?" The figured asked. Sherlock froze when he heard it. It was the same voice that he heard at the opera. The Phantom's voice. Sherlock stared at The Phantom intensely. He could tell that the Phantom wasn't wearing a mask.  
  
"Someone is dead." Sherlock answered.  
  
"Well, Monsieur Holmes I'd say they are in the right place. But that doesn't answer my question." The Phantom chuckled.  
  
"Inspector Lestrade and I were searching for a crypt." Holmes stated, "She took off after the assailant. You, in fact."  
  
"I can state with great honesty your beautiful companion was not following me." The Phantom frowned, "You better hurry, Monsieur Holmes. She may be in grave danger."  
  
Suddenly, Holmes heard Lestrade yell for his help. It sent a chill down Sherlock's spine when he heard it. He turned around, forgetting about the Phantom and raced in Lestrade's direction. The Phantom silently followed intrigued by this turn of events.  
  
Sounds of a struggle reached Sherlock's ears as he tried to catch up with Lestrade. His pace quickened as he ran down the moonlit path. He stopped to see Lestrade struggling with a bulkier Phantom. The 'Phantom' pushed Lestrade away and glared at Sherlock. Holmes noted that This Phantom's eyes were brown. The 'Phantom' pulled a revolver from his cloak and took aim Lestrade.  
  
Before Sherlock could move, a silver object flew towards the gun. The two metal objects met and the gun dropped to the ground. The object flew behind Holmes. He knew the other Phantom was behind him.  
  
"Well, it seems I have a twin." The Phantom mused, "I can understand Monsieur Holmes how you could mistake us. But I can tell you honestly that man isn't me."  
  
Sherlock smiled at those words as he walked over and helped Lestrade to her feet. Lestrade looked between the two Phantoms confused. She was about to voice her opinion, but Sherlock silenced her.  
  
The brown eyed Phantom growled, "You have meddled in my affairs for the last time."  
  
"Is that a threat? I should be the one making them since you are impersonating me." The blue eyed Phantom shot back.  
  
"I will destroy you." The other Phantom shouted as he jumped towards the other phantom. Suddenly a bright light flashed blinding Holmes and Lestrade. When The light dimmed both Phantoms were gone. Lestrade stood there, shaken. She turned to Holmes.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.  
  
"I wish I knew." Holmes sighed. Soon the Paris Police entered the clearing.  
  
**********************888888888888888888888888**************************  
  
The passageway was dark and damp. The sound of footsteps echoed down the passage. The Phantom trudged down the hallways. What a night, it growled. First the meeting with Moriarty only to be interrupted by that idiot count who thought the heavens and the earth moved only for him. Then the imposter in the cemetery trying to commit a crime and have The Phantom blamed for it. Fortunately or unfortunately, Sherlock Holmes was there and can verify that there were two Phantoms there otherwise the imposter's plan might have worked.  
  
The Phantom growled loudly, "Father, look at this mess you have left me."  
  
No one answered nor did the Phantom expect anyone to. It continued its trek to its home, exhausted. Tomorrow, it was going to hear it from Nadir over tonight's events. The phantom sighed. Nadir's heart was in the right place since he was living up to his promise to her father that Nadir would protect the Phantom. Soon it reached the hidden door to its home. Pulling out a rusty key, it opened the door and slipped in, leaving the darkness of the Underground for another night.  
  
Soon an alarmed sounded. The Phantom cursed lightly, as it strode over to a monitor. It smiled as it watched two intruders prepared to enter the Opera House. Looking down at its clothes, a plan began to hatch in the Phantom's mind. The perfect greeting for two nosy detectives.  
  
***********************8888888888888888888888***************************  
  
Moriarty sat in his chair thinking. Fenwick was out once again trying to find out anything he can on the Phantom. Moriarty turned over the events of the evening over in his mind. His meeting wasn't what he expected, but he may have gained an ally at least in Erika Noir.  
  
Erika was a mystery. She was a friend of the Phantom. Possibly even more if her cryptic statements were any indication of any thing. A smile touched Moriarty's lips when he remembered how she handled Ruelle, the Count de Chagny. She was cool, yet full of spirit as she exchanged verbal blows with him. Moriarty could see that she possessed a capable mind and a great cunning. Those were things few women possess even in this advance day and age. Moriarty found her charming ways and good manners refreshing. The only other woman worthy of his respect was one who treated him very poorly. Beth Lestrade is a very intelligent woman, but Holmes could have her and her American manners. Erika was. different. Moriarty only spent one evening with her and he could tell she was uncommon.  
  
He would find the Phantom and persuade him to join Moriarty's quest for the world. With The Phantom came Erika. Working with her would definitely be an experience, one Moriarty looking forward to. Moriarty shook his head. It was best not to get attached. Attachments are weaknesses that he could not afford to have.  
  
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A beautiful tune drifted through the auditorium of The Paris Opera House. The haunting sound played on an unseen piano. The music tried to entice the spirits of the past to come out and dance. This sound greeted Sherlock Holmes and Beth Lestrade as they entered the vacant Theater. The lobby was cast in darkness. As they walked through to the stage, Lestrade looked for some sign of movement.  
  
"Are you sure The Phantom will come to us?" Beth asked as her eyes on the Picture of Christine Daae.  
  
"He will. We need to establish which one is the real Phantom. The real one would be found here." Sherlock explained as they walked out of the lobby and into the dark auditorium.  
  
They froze at the sight in front of them. Standing on the stage stood Christine Daae dressed in black a single light shines on her. Her gaze fell to the wings. She brought her hands to her chest and began to sing. The song had cast a spell over them as they watched in silent as she sang it in Italian. . Muri die vento (Walls of wind) Notte e scesa (Night has fallen) Padre e figlio sono (Father and son are) Insiem (Together)  
  
Con un cavallo (With a horse) Vanno avanti (They progress) In questa grande (Through this intense) Oscurita (Darkness)  
  
Ma ad un Tratto (But suddenly) Il bombo trema (The boy trembles) Dalla paura (With fear) Freddo si fa (It gets cold)  
  
Christine turns towards them and extends a hand to them. Suddenly the whole house lit up. Holmes puts a protective arm around Lestrade as they slowly approach her. Christine smiled sadly as she continues her song.  
  
Padre oh Padre (Father oh Father) Tu non hai visto (Have you seen) Re degli elfi (The king of the elves) Ecolo la (There he is)  
  
Figlio Perduto (Lost son) Vuoi fare un gioco? (do you want to play?) Giota ti porto. (I bring you joy.) Vieni con me (Come with me)  
  
Padre oh Padre (Father oh Father) Hai gia sentito (Have you heard) Cosa mi dice (What he said) E che voul' far? (And what he will do?)  
  
Figlio perdouto (Lost son) Se tu non vieni (If you don't come with me) Lo usero la forza che ho (I'll use my power)  
  
Padre oh Padre (Father oh Father) Re degli elfi (It's the king of the elves) Mi sta toccando (He is touching me) Male mi fa (He hurts me)  
  
Beth and Sherlock climbed on the stage. Christine moved away from them as she walked towards the wings. Sherlock noted several differences between her and the girl in the Painting. She turned to them and whispered the last verse very softly.  
  
E il bambino (And the boy) Con occhi chiusi (Eyes closed) Lui non si muove (He doesn't move) Perso e gia. (He's already lost)  
  
Suddenly all the light went out, plunging the auditorium into complete darkness. Sherlock grabbed for Beth. Beth felt something grabbed her and flipped the person on to the stage. She then pinned them. Soon the lights came up. Beth blushed when she realized she pinned Sherlock to the ground. A deep chuckle caught their attention. Both turned from where they laid, to see the Phantom standing there.  
  
"Perso e gia" The Phantom sang in his tenor voice. A smiled graced his lips. Blue eyes seem to sparkle under the white mask. A black cloak wrapped around his frame.  
  
"You are seeking me, Monsieur Holmes?" The Phantom greeted, "One would think you would have had enough of me this day."  
  
"I wanted to be sure that you are the real Phantom." Holmes answered as he helped Lestrade up, "It will help clear things up for the police greatly."  
  
The Phantom raised a brow, "Thinking of turning me in Monsieur Holmes? You are welcome to try."  
  
Sherlock shook his head, "I don't think you were the one who commit the murder in the cemetery. You could have easily killed Inspector Lestrade and me if that were the case. I just want you to know we are on the same side."  
  
The phantom laughed, "Everyone is seeking my alliance tonight. I'll give you a challenge then, Monsieur Holmes. You must be able to deduce who I am before the other who seeks me does. May the race of wits begin."  
  
The lights flickered off and on, revealing that Phantom had vanished again. Lestrade and Holmes stared at each other. Holmes smiled brightly. He liked nothing more than a good challenge. Lestrade returned the smile, so did she.  
  
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MW (hold up a katana and a banana): Okay, guys, start hitting that review button or the banana gets it. 


	6. Chapter 6

Myshawolf walks out with her notebook: Hey guys. I have a few notes for this chapter. Okay Jaka Ray was nice enough to loan me a character for this fic. Granted he will only be mentioned, but hey, I like how he is worked in into her fic. Two, I'm sure a few people have a few ideas who they think the phantom is. If you want to take a guess leave it in a review. Three, Moriarty is going to get some romance just not in the normal way. So will Lestrade and Holmes in fact things may get a bit. steamy.  
  
Nightmare walks out: My husband has been visiting, hasn't he?  
  
MW: Yeah, is it that obvious?  
  
Nightmare: A little.  
  
MW shrugs: You have been all over the place as well. (turns to her readers) What else? Oh yeah. Since this story is centered around music, songs are going to be weaved in and out.  
  
Nightmare: Gee, I think they missed that.  
  
MW: (raspberries Nightmare) On with the show!  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 6- Eros Was Here.  
  
The opera was in disarray the next day. It seems the victim in the cemetery was the young diva, Calotte, lover of The Count de Chagny. The Count was convinced that The Phantom killed her to spite him and demanded that the police start looking for him right away. To Lestrade, this was very suspect since Sherlock and herself never told the police that the Phantom was involved.  
  
However, the up side to the whole thing was Lestrade and Holmes received a warmer welcome than the last time they tried to interview the opera staff. Several people were more willing to talk to them. They wanted to clear their beloved Ghost of any guilt. Even Nadir began to smile at them in passing. However the Ghost remained absent from the theater lately. Lestrade looked for him everywhere or tried to.  
  
"I wonder where he is?" Lestrade commented to Holmes as they strolled towards the Manager's office, "Now that their lead is gone, the managers were hoping the Phantom would present them with another one."  
  
"He will make his presence known when the time is right." Sherlock smiled as he opened the Manager's door for Beth. The Firmins looked up from their pacing. They seemed disappointed in seeing them.  
  
"Sorry, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, but we are expecting someone else." Madame Firmin sighed.  
  
"What if she doesn't come? Mon Dieu, we will be ruined." Monsieur Firmin cried.  
  
"She will come." Madame reassured her husband, "She owes it to her father. This is her home. She won't fail us."  
  
Sherlock cleared his throat, gaining their attention, "Who is this she?"  
  
"A daughter of a friend and former employee. Her father use to play the first chair violin in our orchestra when he was younger. He remained here as a tutor until his death five years ago." Monsieur Firmin explained.  
  
Madame Firmin added, "She left Paris to train in Milan after that. We sent her a letter a few weeks ago when we first heard Calotte sing. Calotte was horrible but The Count insisted we put her on the stage. Since he was our principle patron, how could we refuse his wishes? But we wanted a backup to use when we saw fit and eventually replace Calotte. Alas she never even acknowledged our letters. She is our last hope."  
  
Lestrade spoke up, "Why wait for her if you don't know that she is coming?"  
  
"She will come." Madame Firmin stated finally and then quickly change the subject, "What can we do for you?"  
  
Sherlock smiled, "We would like to arrange a meeting with The Count de Chagny. There are some things that I would like have him clear up."  
  
Both Firmins froze in shock. Monsieur Firmin reacted first by saying, "He won't be welcoming to you. De Chagny is literally foaming at the mouth because we turned down his suggestion for a replacement."  
  
Sherlock smiled, "Where can we find him?"  
  
"He is staying at his family estate just outside of Paris." Madame Firmin remarked as she wrote down something and handed it to Lestrade, "There's the address. Good luck. You'll need it."  
  
Sherlock thanked them and was leading Lestrade to the door. Nadir burst through the door with an excited but worried expression on his face. Beautiful music flowed through into the room. Nadir placed both hands on the Firmins desk.  
  
"She is back." Nadir informed them.  
  
The managers ran out the door at Nadir's words. Sherlock and Beth followed them curious to who this she was. Nadir walked briskly behind them. Holmes and Lestrade froze at the sight of Madame Firmin hugging Christine Daae.  
  
"That isn't Miss Daae, is it?" Lestrade stammered. Nadir smiled at them as he walked up.  
  
"No, you are not seeing a ghost." Nadir stated as he led the two detectives up to the woman. The lady turned and gave them a beautiful smile. Nadir walked to her side and gestured to the detectives.  
  
Nadir smiled widely, "Detective Holmes, Inspector Lestrade, may I present a lost daughter of the Opera House, Mademoiselle Erika Noir."  
  
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Fenwick crept around the Opera's wings trying to gather any information that he could get. Somewhere near by, Moriarty was waiting for him to report. So far, he only heard about the murder from the night before and how The Phantom was innocent. Although one of the older dancers remembered a time when the Count use to court Erika Noir when she performed with the Opera Company. She had left for Milan to continue her training after her father passed on in a mysterious accident. Fenwick didn't learn anything more from this dancer since the old witch in charge of the dancers chased him away.  
  
Rubbing his head, Fenwick searched for his master, who had taken to the task of trying to locate The Phantom's lair. Fenwick supposed that was for the best, he didn't like those cellars. After thoroughly searching the stage, Fenwick supposed he should head down.  
  
Suddenly a group of voices reached his ears. Quicker than he usually moves, Fenwick ducked behind a pile of boxes. He watched as the managers escorted a beautiful woman on the stage. Fenwick recognized her as the woman who met with his master the other night. The managers were hinting for her to sing for them. Lingering behind them was Holmes and Lestrade. The woman smiled and stepped on to the main stage. Fenwick followed her with his eyes. A bright light came onto her, causing her to smile brightly and waved to someone high above. Fenwick looked up and noticed his master watching her from the shadows. Fenwick was surprise to see Moriarty openly admiring the woman.  
  
A beautiful sound rung out in the air. Fenwick realized that the woman was singing through the musical scale. She started out slowly at first but it gradually got faster. He noticed that Holmes and Lestrade's faces fell in shock. The woman burst into song. Her voice flowed over the words lightly and with a sacred grace. Fenwick felt himself fall into a trance as she sang. Absently he glanced up at Moriarty. Moriarty had taken a few steps forwards so he was partially conceal by the shadows. His eyes stared at the singer. If Fenwick didn't know better, he would think Moriarty fancied the singer.  
  
The Managers clapped loudly as they rushed forward. Fenwick could hear them praise her talents and beg that she stay and sing. The woman smiled and agreed to until they find a more permanent singer. The manager began to usher her away. The woman was laughing and began the scan the heavens above the stage. Her smile began to falter when she meet Moriarty's gaze. They held it as she walked off the stage. Fenwick noticed that her cheeks became tinged with a pink color as she disappeared into the wings.  
  
Fenwick noticed that Moriarty was gone now as well. Good, No need for the detectives to get any closer to the master than was necessary. Fenwick quickly moved away from the stage area and towards the stage exit. Holmes had noticed Fenwick and went to follow the man.  
  
Lestrade turned to ask Holmes a question only to find that he was gone. Uttering a sigh, she turned to follow the manager only to come face to face with The Count de Chagny. The young man seemed annoyed to see her here. His Blonde was meticulously trimmed His brown eyes seem to narrow. Lestrade offered him a polite smile.  
  
"Excuse me, monsieur." Lestrade stated as she went to walk by him. The Count smiled at her charmingly. Gently he took her hand and placed a kiss on it.  
  
"That is quite all right, Mademoiselle. I was just caught off guard by the presence of the police here. But now that I noticed your beauty and I'm thankful for it. You are here to investigate my love's death."  
  
Lestrade was about to deny it, but decided not. Here was her chance to get some information for the Count. Confidently, she confirmed his assumption, "Yes I am. I was asking your managers where we could find you. They were most helpful. But it seems I won't need their help since you are here."  
  
"Yes I know. They are not in their office. Can you tell me where they went?"  
  
"They are showing a young soprano around, a Mademoiselle Noir."  
  
The Count's eyes gleamed with a dark emotion. Lestrade hit a sour note with that name and wondered why. The Count began to swear in an old French dialect that Lestrade hadn't heard before. The Count turned to the young Inspector and seemed to measure her up. Lestrade recognized that look before for she had seen once in the eyes of another. She suppressed a shiver against that horrible memory. The Count took her hand again.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mademoiselle Lestrade, but business calls me away. Will you give me the pleasure of your company over dinner at The Café Seine early this evening? I will answer your question then?"  
  
Lestrade agreed, "Of course. My partner may join us if that is okay, Count de Chagny?"  
  
The Count seemed disappointed as he sighed, "I suppose. Please call me Ruelle. I will see you there about five. Farewell, Cherie belle."  
  
The Count walked away. Lestrade couldn't shake the feeling in her stomach that she was getting herself into deeper trouble than she did with William Bern back home. At least Holmes will be there.  
  
"You should be careful, Mademoiselle Lestrade." A soft voice stated from behind her.  
  
Beth turned to stare in the young face of Erika Noir. She was alone this time and Lestrade was ably to see past her face. Erika wore a simple sleeveless dress of blue. A silk scarf of a matching hue was wrapped around her shoulders. Beth suddenly realized that Erika was only a few years younger than her or Holmes. Beth gave the young singer a smile.  
  
"Why do you say that?" Lestrade asked.  
  
"He is a dangerous man. He may be charming but that only what he shows the world. The unfortunate see the devil underneath." Erika stated with great certainty.  
  
"I take it you have some personal experiences with the Count."  
  
"Yes, I am an unfortunate." Erika smiled sadly as she rubbed her front right shoulder, "It cost me a very dear friend and mentor. Possible my own life if said friend had not intervened."  
  
"Why are you warning me, Mademoiselle Noir since we have just met?"  
  
Erika's smile went mysterious in an instant as she replied, "We have met before, Inspector, and shared a mutual acquaintance. If you go tonight, don't turn you back on that man." Erika turned to walk away when Beth grabbed her arm. Erika looked at Beth's hand on her arm and back up at Beth. Beth swallowed.  
  
"Are you related to Christine Daae? You are the spitting image of her portrait." Lestrade asked.  
  
Erika raised an eyebrow at the wording of the question, "Where are you from originally, Inspector?"  
  
Lestrade let go at the off beat question and answered, "Texas."  
  
"Why did you move to New London?"  
  
"It had more opportunities for me than my hometown." Lestrade replied defensively.  
  
Erika sighed, "That's not the whole story, is it? Not even your detective knows why you moved away. When I left for Milan, I told everyone I was going to train and be a better singer like my Papa wanted. In reality I was running. Running away from my past, recent and ancient. You did the same thing. Some day, we can talk about our reasons for running. Good bye, Inspector Lestrade and good luck."  
  
"Wait Miss Noir." Lestrade shouted. Erika stopped and turned towards her. There was a stage between them now, and yet Lestrade felt a kinship with this young woman. Lestrade smiled, "Call me Beth or just Lestrade."  
  
"Erika."  
  
Erika walked into the shadows. Lestrade stood on the stage alone. With no one around, she felt her mask, her shield against her own past begin to slip. She turned away. Beth knew she couldn't get emotional, not with this case hanging in the balance. Emotions won't get The Count to talk about his past. Beth left to find her partner unaware she was being watched by a pair of unfriendly brown eyes.  
  
********************************8888888888888888888888******************  
  
Sherlock followed Fenwick out of the Opera House. Soon Fenwick walked towards a busy Parisian market place. Holmes tried to follow him through it only to lose Fenwick in the bustling crowd. Sherlock began to look around for a place to rest and regroup. When he turned, he crashed in to a young dark skinned man. The young man was about to mutter an apology when he noticed the frantic look in the stranger's eye. He grabbed Sherlock's arm and dragged toward the mouth of an alley. Sherlock was about to protest until he realize that the young man was pulling to an open area. As soon as they reached it, Sherlock took a deep breathe.  
  
"The Parisian market is a killer at this time of day." The young man smiled.  
  
"Thank you for your assistance." Sherlock smiled. He noticed he was carrying several bags of food under one arm.  
  
"My pleasure. Sherlock Holmes, I presume?" The young man asked.  
  
Sherlock looked shocked at the man's insight and perception. The man smiled brightly at the detective's expression and decided to enlighten him.  
  
"My boyfriend works at the Opera House. He told me that you were in town and what you look like." The man informed the detective.  
  
"Who may that be?"  
  
"Nadir Khan, head of security." The man smiled again, "My name in Danesh Nemo. Well, I have to hurry back to the Café. Have a good day, Monsieur Holmes."  
  
"Wait, can you tell me where one can find information on The Opera Ghost."  
  
Danesh blinked as he thought out loud, "Probably Le Restaurant d'Harmonie over on the Rue Scribe. All the members of the Opera Company go there after performances and rehearsals. You can pick up tidbits there. I'm sorry Monsieur, but I need to get back to my job. Good luck in your journey."  
  
"Thank you, Monsieur Nemo." Holmes called after the young man. Danesh waved as he disappeared into the crowd. Maybe Lestrade will like to dine out tonight.  
  
************************************8888888888888888888888**************  
  
Lestrade waited in the hotel room for Sherlock to return. Watson was still with her uncle scanning the old police files from the original affair with the Phantom of the Opera. Etienne promised Lestrade that he would look after the robot for the night. She had just picked out a dress for the evening when Holmes returned. Lestrade smiled which Sherlock returned.  
  
"How would you feel about dining out?" They asked each other at the same time. They froze when they realize the other had a plan.  
  
"The Count de Chagny invited us out to the Café Seine for an early dinner." Lestrade drawled first watching Holmes reaction. Holmes was surprised.  
  
"I got a tip that Le Restaurant d'Harmonie is a good place to pick up information on the Phantom." Holmes countered softly.  
  
"Well, we can't go to both places together." Lestrade pointed out.  
  
Holmes nodded, "Why don't we keep our separate engagements. But keep in touch in case the other comes up with something."  
  
Lestrade didn't like the idea of them splitting up, but agreed none the less. They could cover more ground that way. She picked up her dress and went to change. Holmes stepped out of the room to give her some privacy.  
  
As he stood in the hall, he felt a little angry that she was getting dressed up for the Count. He was hoping she would accompany him to the restaurant. Instead she was going to the Café Seine to dine with a murder suspect. Holmes snorted to himself; she'll be bored to death. Then Holmes stopped mid thought. He never wish ill to any of his friends, so why now? He couldn't be jealous, could him? Nonsense, jealousy was something people who were in love felt. He certain wasn't in love with Lestrade. He jumped when Lestrade stepped out in a beautiful floral dress. She turned to Holmes.  
  
"I should be backing two hours. Do you want to meet back here then and compare notes?" Lestrade asked.  
  
"I was going to wait for Watson to return and take him with me." Holmes stated calmly. He liked the way that dress fit her. His mind was trying to persuade his heart that she was only a friend.  
  
"Don't. Watson is with my Uncle for the night going over the original police reports and archives. He'll be back in the morning." Lestrade smirked at Holmes situation, "You are flying solo. I'll see you back here by 8 o'clock."  
  
With that said, Lestrade walked away. Holmes watched her with open admiration. His heart reminded his logical head that he is human after all.  
  
*****************8888888888888888888888888******************************  
  
Lestrade was bored by the time their drinks arrived. The Count talked on about his exploits in the French Navy. Lestrade scanned the crowd to pass the time. By the first course, Lestrade had count the number of pictures on the wall behind the Count who was talking about his school days at Oxford. Beth was ready to climb the wall by dessert. She couldn't believe she agreed to do this. How she wished Holmes had joined her. He could always keep her interest no matter what. The Count was talking about his lineage when a familiar figure walked up to the table.  
  
Lestrade was so thankful for the distraction she didn't see the Count's hatred filled glare. Nadir merely smiled at The Count and Lestrade. Behind him, another exotic young man smiled at them. Nadir bowed to Lestrade.  
  
"I'm sorry to interrupt your delightful conversation, but I hate to see a beautiful woman just sitting when she should be dancing. Don't you agree?" Nadir greeted. The Count sputtered out a reply. Nadir offered Lestrade his hand and asked, "May have this dance, Mademoiselle Inspector?"  
  
Lestrade jumped at the chance to escape the table. She eagerly took Nadir's hand. He led her to the small dance floor. Before they reached the center, Nadir stumbled a little and gave her a small smile. Lestrade smiled widely as they began to dance.  
  
"My life to you for saving me." Lestrade sighed.  
  
"Don't thank me yet. You still have to get back to you hotel room without him." Nadir stated seriously.  
  
"I share a room with Sherlock Holmes. I don't think the Count will try anything."  
  
"Just be careful. Erika is greatly worried over your safety."  
  
"You know Erika?"  
  
"We grew up together. Our fathers were best friends. I know more things about her than most people. You do too. You are a lot like her."  
  
"I only just met her. I don't know much."  
  
"Don't worry; you will see it in the end. Just don't have the Count see you home. If he gives you a hard time, Danesh or myself will assist you."  
  
"Danesh?"  
  
"The young man I will be standing. He is the head chef here." Nadir informed her as he escorted her back to the table. Lestrade noticed that The Count had ordered them champagne. Nadir gave her hand a squeeze before he let go so she could sit down. Nadir gave them a little bow before returning to the young man who was waiting across the room. Nadir gave the man a quick kiss on the lips and the two walked into the kitchen.  
  
Lestrade felt herself smile now that she was assured that she had some allies. She turned to the Count who motioned for her to take a sip of the bubbling wine. Lestrade did and felt it burn as it traveled down her throat. She watched the Count take a sip and admire the wine in its flute. Lestrade took another sip. Absently, she wished Holmes was here. After a few more sips her wrist comm began to beep. Lestrade flashed the Count an apologetic smile as she answered it.  
  
"Hello, Lestrade here." Lestrade answered.  
  
"Lestrade, its Holmes. I have a lead and have been waiting for you." Holmes stated with concern.  
  
Lestrade glanced at her watch and groaned. She was late for their meeting by an hour. Lestrade smiled, "I'm so sorry, Holmes. I'm on my way. Wait up for me."  
  
Lestrade closed off communication and smiled at the Count, "I'm sorry, Ruelle, I really must run. My partner is waiting for me."  
  
"Not as problem. Will I see you again?"  
  
Lestrade tried her damnest not to grimace, "We'll see. My schedule is very hectic with this case and all. Good bye."  
  
Lestrade raced from the table. The Count examined her half empty glass and sighed. So much for another conquest.  
  
*******************88888888888888888888888*****************************  
  
Holmes paced the room. Where was she? He called over a half an hour ago. Granted The Café Seine was a ways away, but still. Was she having a good time with The Count that she decided to stay a little longer? Holmes shook his head. Of course not. She never dealt well with people who thought they were better than others. He learned that first hand when they just gotten to know each other. God, he never worried over a woman before. What was wrong with him?  
  
The door to the room creaked open. Holmes felt relief wash over him. He turned around the second he heard the lock click into place. The sight that greeted him killed any remark he was about to say. Lestrade was leaning against the door. Her hair flew around her face in tussled way that took her sensuality to a new level that Holmes was becoming keenly aware of. Her eyes gleamed with a type of hunger that had nothing to do with food.  
  
"Lestrade?" Holmes asked with great certainty as if he was trying to identify this new woman. Lestrade smiled her confirmation as she walked towards him.  
  
"Holmes." She tossed back as she dropped her purse onto the floor. Holmes took a step back as she pressed up against him. He felt trapped since he wasn't sure how to handle this. Lestrade ran her hands up his chest and around his neck. Holmes moved his hands up to remove them.  
  
"Are you drunk?" Holmes asked slightly panicked by this situation.  
  
"No. Are you?" Lestrade shot back as she moved closer, "I always wondered what you tasted like."  
  
Before Holmes could respond or act, he felt Lestrade kissing him with such passionate fervor. He didn't know what to do or how to act. Lestrade gently began to persuade his body to give in to her. Despite his mind's protests that something was wrong with this, Holmes began to respond to her parting his lips to take the kiss deeper. After all, his heart smirked, he was human.  
  
Suddenly he tasted it and he knew instantly what was wrong. The question was could he stop her? He brought his hand up to her hair and ran it through the strands of brown. He wasn't sure if he could.  
  
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Nightmare looks down at the mutilated banana: I take it not too many people reviewed.  
  
MW walks out with teddy bear: They are forcing me to take drastic measures. (hold up the teddy bear and the Katana.) Same threat implies.  
  
Nightmare: Okay you distract her by reviewing and I'll get the camera. Her friends over in the HP section are going to love this. 


	7. Chapter 7

Nightmare stares at a mutilated teddy bear: I thought I was bad.  
  
Myshawolf walks out holding the teddy bear from last chapter: You are.  
  
Nightmare: Wait, if that's the bear from last time, then what is this?  
  
MW smiles: Katrina was visiting again, I see.  
  
Nightmare: I don't want to know. Why didn't you kill the bear then?  
  
MW: Northstar asked me not to. Besides I think I scared Jaka by threatening it so I decided to let it live.  
  
Nightmare: You are a strange one.  
  
MW: I thought up you, didn't I?  
  
Nightmare: No comment. On with the show.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 7- Penny for Your Thoughts.  
  
Sherlock felt himself sink deeper into the kiss. He knew that Lestrade wasn't acting of her own accord. Her breath tasted of a drug. It was just with each of her moans; Holmes was losing a little a bit of his tight control. A small part of his mind wasn't giving up on him and began to rebel. Holmes could hear a stern voice begin to scold him.  
  
"It's not right and you know it, Sherlock." The voice stated grimly, "Besides could you look her in the face in the morning? Pull yourself together man! She has been drugged for goodness sake!"  
  
Sherlock tried to pull away but Lestrade refuse to budge from the lip lock. Holmes could feel his control begin to slide away. He needed to break contact before they reach the point of no return.  
  
"She'll hate you for it, you idiot!!" The voice screamed. Holmes could stand any type of torture or insult. However, if he lost Lestrade's trust and respect, he would be lost to the world. He pushed her away. They both were breathing deep and ragged. Lestrade went to step towards him. Her eyes never left his.  
  
Suddenly she felt something hit the back of his neck. She slipped into unconsciousness. Before she completely blacked out, she felt Holmes catch her and beg for her forgiveness.  
  
Holmes held Lestrade close to him. That was a close call. Sherlock absently stroked her hair as he sat on his bed. Slowly he began to examine his feeling over this whole affair. Anger was the first and strongest emotion that he felt. He was angry at who ever set Lestrade up like this. Obviously he wasn't supposed to be the one receiving the affection. The anger began to ferment into a dark rage against the Count de Chagny. After all the Count was the last person Lestrade was with. The drug that influenced her was ingested since her breath held traces of it. He almost lost her to that vile man who tried to pass himself off as a gentleman. If Sherlock wasn't more afraid for his partner's safety, he would go over and challenge the Count right now. The last feeling to wash over Holmes was relief that he was the one Lestrade assaulted. He couldn't bear to think what would happen if she was in the presence of someone else. Holmes held her closer to protect her from that possibility.  
  
So instead of discussing the case, Holmes cradled Lestrade in his lap. He sat there for a few hours, trying to sort everything out. During the kiss, his mask that covered his feelings for the brunette inspector had slipped for its perch and shattered when it hit the floor. Holmes made no move to pick up the pieces and put the mask back together. He wasn't sure if he could ever put that mask back on after nearly losing control. Holmes buried his face into Lestrade's hair while she slept. In the morning, they would talk. Sherlock cursed the sun for always rising. This was one talk he wouldn't enjoy.  
  
Eventually, he stood and laid Lestrade on the bed. He tucked her in and returned to the window. He froze as a pair of sad and concern blue eyes stared back at him. Sherlock opened the balcony door and came face to face with the Phantom.  
  
"Nadir told Erika about Lestrade's meeting with The Count. Erika informed me." The Phantom explained, "Is she all right?"  
  
Holmes shook his head, "She has been drugged. She is being more passionate than usual."  
  
The Phantom nodded and produced two vials plus syringe. He handed them to Sherlock, "Take these. One is antidote to the drug. The other is a sedative. The antidote will take a while to work. She may still wake in a passionate mood. The sedative will allow her to rest."  
  
"Thank you." Sherlock said meekly as he took the gifts. He turned away as the phantom moved to sit on the railing. Sherlock noticed his position and decided that maybe this would be the time for the Phantom to talk. He closed the glass door behind him as he stepped out onto the balcony.  
  
"You are in love with her?" The Phantom asked gently.  
  
Sherlock was about to deny it but decided to be truthful, "I'm not sure."  
  
"It's hard to try not to fall in love with someone when you swore to never do so again." The Phantom stated, "You respect her greatly."  
  
Sherlock knew it wasn't a question but a statement. He smiled as he asked one of his own, "Why do you hate the Count so much?"  
  
"He took someone very special for me. Someone I can never get back."  
  
"Just like your ancestors."  
  
"Just as the de Chagnies have done since the beginning. Do you know whose bloodline the current Count is from?"  
  
Sherlock shook his head. The Phantom gave a chuckle, "All that time in the Opera library, you never figured it out? I'm disappointed in you."  
  
Sherlock smiled, "I can't solve everything. I was guessing the original Vicomte de Chagny, but he never had any children."  
  
"There was another De Chagny back then. Raoul de Chagny was an honorable man. He married Christine Daae to protect her from any disgrace, from a hidden danger. He died from that danger."  
  
"What happened to them? The records didn't show me anything."  
  
"There is a reason for that, Monsieur Holmes. A good one."  
  
"Tell me. Let us help you."  
  
The Phantom began to laugh loudly. It was a light and airy sound that didn't fit his voice. It was something that didn't belong. Afterwards The Phantom stood on the railing and smiled down at Holmes.  
  
"You need to choose your allies a little better. The Count has marked your lady as his next conquest. You should make up your mind concerning her. Erika Noir can tell you about the Count. Maybe you should ask her."  
  
"I will if it is okay with you."  
  
"It is. Thank you for your respect, Monsieur Holmes." The Phantom smiled.  
  
"If you will answer one more question for me." Holmes took a deep breathe and asked, "I know Moriarty is seeking you. Have you joined him?"  
  
"I have joined no one. My alliances are few and very far between. My job is to protect the opera house, the last thing of true beauty in this world. You know, the theater is the one place in this cruel world where the truth is safe. No matter how many masks one wears in the theater the audience learns to see past them." The Phantom observed, "I will warn you right now. If you want to keep that mask that you wear on, don't come looking for me. You will find yourself in a difficult position of choosing. Bon soir."  
  
"Bon soir."  
  
The Phantom jumped off the balcony railing and into a nearby tree. Sherlock didn't even bother to follow him with his eyes. He turned and watched Lestrade sleep through the glass door. The Phantom wasn't the one Sherlock wanted to sniff out. Now the Count was going to have his mask pulled off and be exposed to the harsh world.  
  
************8888888888888888888*****************************************  
  
Erika paced the small room full of many musical instruments. She needed to think. Lestrade was safe for now. Holmes and The Phantom made sure of that. The Count was getting too dangerous to be allowed to roam around unattended. The incident this evening proved that. Someone will need to keep a close eye on him. Erika figured after this Sherlock Holmes would do that. The Phantom observed the love he held for Beth Lestrade, even if Sherlock didn't see it himself. Maybe this encounter would open up a few eyes over at that hotel. It wasn't hard to convince Leroux to hold the police stake out at that hotel. Holmes would keep an eye on the inspector and the Count. Erika smiled, that was one problem she wouldn't worry too much about.  
  
Tired from all her pacing, Erika walked out the music room and into a bigger living area. Various portraits decorated the room. Hanging over the fireplace was a beautiful portrait of a family. Erika stared at it for a bit. In this picture Christine Daae was sitting on a stool. On her lap sat a somber little boy with chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. He smiled at the painter as any seven year would. Behind Christine stood a man dressed in black. He didn't look at the viewer. Instead he stared at Christine was a look of pure love and happiness. His face was hidden by a white mask, but the painter was able to catch his emerald eyes. Erika felt her lips curve up as she stared at her ancestors.  
  
After a few moments, Erika curled herself up into the overstuffed chair. She reached for packet of papers when Ayesha jumped into her lap. Erika stroked Ayesha with her free hand while she flipped through the papers. Ayesha purred her approval and curled up into Erika's lap. Erika smiled at Ayesha. This was her most loyal friend next to Nadir. Erika looked back at her papers and pulled out the stack she wanted. She settled down for reading the reports her spies brought back to her. Moriarty wasn't the only one who was doing his homework.  
  
Erika scanned through the reports. Well, he certainly was thorough. He checked out every lead that Paris was willing to give him. She frowned to herself. He even visited her father's grave. Erika wracked her brain trying to remember any recent intrusions. The Noir crypt was equipped with an alarm to alert the Phantom of any intruders. When could he have come?  
  
Suddenly Erika remembered. The night before The Phantom's return to Opera, the alarm sounded. As her duty dictated, Erika went to investigate. She began to piece together the man's face that she fought with in her mind. He was tall and muscular. That she was sure of when he grabbed her, yet he didn't hurt her. That meant he knew his own strength and had some control over it. Erika closed her eyes as she moved to his face. The shocked look in his blue-ish grey eyes when he realized his attacker was a woman. Reflecting back, Erika found them to be very beautiful and sharp. In her mind, she traced out the hardened lines of his face. They gave it an edge like he was constantly on the look out for something he wanted and calculating on getting it with as little loss as possible. His hair was black with a few white spots. It gave him a dignified look.  
  
Erika smiled to herself. So Professor Moriarty was finally revealed. Not bad considering he was a dangerous criminal. Erika wasn't sure how dangerous he was, but he did have guts to come into the cellars of the Opera without any prior warning. Erika read the dossier again trying to gleam any more information from it. Sighing she put it back down and stared into the fire.  
  
"So, Ayesha, what do I know about this man?" Erika spoke softly to the cat. Ayesha flicked her tail in response. Erika chuckled as the tail brushed her hand.  
  
"He is thorough in gathering information, even learned where the Phantom was buried. He isn't one to be trifled with from our encounter with the Count. But he has manners and uses them even with his enemies. Very intelligent and adapts well to difficult situations. Believes in loyalty or otherwise he would have killed some of his underlings by now. Rarely shows emotions when confronted with a problem. Tends to stay compose and in control of himself. He prefers quiet intimidation over physical violence and has the presence for it." Erika listed off for the cat. Ayesha meowed at different points just to voice her opinion.  
  
Erika smiled, "Let's not forget that he is very dangerous and cunning criminal mastermind who is looking for the Phantom for reasons that I still can't figure out. Did I miss anything?"  
  
Ayesha looked up at her as if to say convey some unknown message. Erika scratched her ears and pondered the problem of Moriarty. She really didn't fear being discovered by either party. Erika had a feeling that Holmes and Lestrade would respect her need to remain unknown. Moriarty might be a little harder to convince, but as a gentleman he would at least keep the knowledge quiet for a bit. It was the Count that concerned her. That loathsome creature should have been shot for what he did five years ago to her poor father and if Erika wasn't injured she would have. Erika knew she couldn't tangle with him just yet. It was too soon, he had too many friends.  
  
However he was back to his old tricks again. This time Erika was ready. She had three years to develop an antidote to The Count's various poisons and drugs. Erika looked up at the portrait again and smiled. Sure she had musical talent, but she was accomplished chemist and herbologist. She played up her singing ability to cover up what she really could do. After all, the little people knew about that the better.  
  
Erika leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes. She was very tired from this week's events. Things weren't getting any easier. In two nights, The Opera Company would be holding its annual Masquerade Ball. As the new prima, Erika was required to attend. She glanced up at her ancestors. Her great grandfather from at least six generations back would be proud of her costume.  
  
"I just hope I can intimidate as many people as you did." Erika joked at the painting, before yawning. Erika curled herself up a little tighter and promptly fell asleep.  
  
**************88888888888888888888**************************************  
  
Moriarty found himself working over time on trying to figure out this mystery. Fenwick returned with the news that there was people gathering information on him. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the Phantom sizing up his next opponent. Moriarty picked up the New London Times and read the ad over again. The small ad only read: Dear Prof. M, Catch me if you can. O.G. Moriarty wasn't sure if he was furious, amused or both. Erika had warned that The Phantom wouldn't be open to his proposal. Moriarty felt a pang of jealousy when he thought the Phantom having such a beautiful ally.  
  
Moriarty acknowledged the feeling for what it was and dismissed it. After all, Erika was mystery. Moriarty remembered when her eyes would flash with amusement over something he said. Amusement that showed she knew more than she was letting on. He had yet to meet the Phantom and when he did he was going to figure out the relationship between the two. Erika was very cryptic about that and that intrigued Moriarty. She was quite blunt about everything else except that.  
  
Moriarty paused in his thoughts. He was thinking about her a lot lately. Ever since she appeared at the Opera and sang. He could still remember that warm feeling in his guts when she began to sing. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He was so moved by it that he want to stand by her and just watch her. When she sang, she seemed transformed like she was on a higher plane of existence.  
  
Moriarty paused again. Why did he just think that? Sure he admired her, especially after everything else he learned about her. But he sounded like some lovesick fool. He had a world to conquer before he even entertained any thoughts about a woman, even one as intriguing as Erika. Growling at his thoughts, Moriarty stalked off to bed. He need to rest since he was going to descend back into the Underworld of the Opera House.  
  
******************88888888888888888888**********************************  
  
Lestrade closed her eyes against the sunlight that streamed into the room. She turned into her pillow. Breathing in the musky scent on the pillow, she was reminded of Holmes. The pillow smelled just like him. Her mind played back scenes from a dream she had. She and Holmes were kissing passionately and he seemed to enjoy it. Lestrade chuckled softly to herself, like that would ever happen. She moved her legs and realized she wasn't in her pajamas. Lestrade looked down and saw that she was still in her dress. Her eyes wildly searched the room for some sign as to what was going on. Soon Sherlock kneeled into her line of vision.  
  
"What happened?" Lestrade asked sleepily.  
  
"I'll explain in a second. Tell me are you feeling any urge that are out of the ordinary?" Sherlock questioned back.  
  
"Other than confusion which is normal when I'm around you? Nothing. What's going on?"  
  
"It seems the Phantom was right." Sherlock smiled to himself, "Any heaviness in your limbs is a side effect of the sedative I had to give you."  
  
"A sedative?! Why?"  
  
"You were very forceful last night, no thanks to a drug someone slipped you."  
  
"ZED! I thought it was a dream. Should I apologize for anything?"  
  
"Since you weren't in control of yourself, no you don't. However, we seem to be in The Phantom's debt, since he gave me the antidote."  
  
"So I didn't dream it all up."  
  
"No you didn't."  
  
Slowly, Lestrade decided to sit up. Holmes watched her closely as if to be sure she could do it. He had sent Watson back to London to have the Irregulars do some research into Erika Noir's past. The woman seemed to be connected with The Phantom since she was the one to tip off the Phantom as to Lestrade's condition. Sherlock was thankful to her, but he wanted to be sure he knew who they were dealing with.  
  
"Nadir was right." Lestrade grimaced, "I should have watched him more closely."  
  
"Nadir Khan? He was there?"  
  
"Yeah, he was visiting his boyfriend. I didn't catch the man's name."  
  
"I did. Danesh Nemo is his name." Sherlock smiled and explained, "We meet earlier."  
  
"Nadir told me not to let the Count take me home. When I reminded him that you and I were rooming together, he seemed relieved."  
  
"The Phantom may have sent him to keep an eye on The Count."  
  
"What did the Count hit me with anyways? Nano-bots?"  
  
"No. A simple herbal concoction designed to increase your hormonal levels that simulate your, ahem, sex drive." Holmes coughed out the last part, "I deduced as much from your behavior and the antidote the Phantom left. He suggested that we talk with Erika Noir about The Count."  
  
"Yeah, I remember he got very nasty when I mentioned her." Lestrade stated as she stood up, "I think there is some history. Also Erika never did answer my question about her relation to Christine Daae."  
  
"One would think that answer would be obvious. She carries a strong resemblance to the late Madame Daae. We can add that to our list of things to talk to Mademoiselle Noir about."  
  
"When should we go to the Opera House?"  
  
"I was thinking of catching up with her at The Restaurant d'Harmonie. I know for a fact that the opera company goes there after rehearsal. They also confirmed that a young woman matching Mademoiselle Noir's description has been dining there for the last week."  
  
"Wait. Erika has been in town for at least a week before showing up at the Opera."  
  
"For what purpose I don't know. We will most certainly find out when we question Mademoiselle Noir."  
  
Lestrade nodded as she sat back down on the bed. That was good. She would need to rest. Her body was still fighting the last effects of the sedative. Sherlock sensed that she was still tired. He sat next to her and stated softly, "The Phantom told me that you would be sluggish for a bit. I have a feeling he didn't want to cause you any more harm."  
  
"It just reminds of that time that Culverton Smith held my mind prisoner." Lestrade shivered. She hated remembering that incident, almost as much as that time when William Bern ambushed her when she was younger. Zed, she hated having no control over a situation. She shivered again. Lestrade stiffened, and then relaxed when she felt Sherlock pulled her close and hugged her tight. In that instant, she knew he had worried over her a great deal.  
  
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Erika stretched and yawned as she walked towards the rehearsal room. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night due to some disturbing dreams she had. Shrugging her shoulders she hoped to shake them off. Nadir fell in step beside her.  
  
"So how did everything go last night?" Nadir asked urgently.  
  
"She has been marked, Khan. Ruelle that bastard has marked her as his next victim." Erika growled.  
  
"He didn't."  
  
"No, thankfully she got away somehow. However Holmes had to deal with the effects of the drug. I left him an antidote and sedative to help."  
  
"This affair is getting dangerous. A strange man has been poking around in the cellars."  
  
"And no one has warned him off? We are losing our touch here."  
  
"Erika, I'm being serious."  
  
So am I, old friend. But I didn't come back from spending five years in exile only to allow another person to fall victim to his twisted mind. Moriarty wants the Phantom for reasons I still can't figure. He certainly is intelligent enough that he doesn't need another 'genius' around. Holmes and Lestrade are trying to solve a murder and a centuries old mystery."  
  
"They are looking for you. Erika, how long are you going to play this game?"  
  
"As long as it needs to be played. I will not be persuaded otherwise. The Opera needs a decent soprano right now. I have found a few in the chorus who can fill the role beautifully. All they need is training. As soon as this whole thing is done, I will start their training."  
  
"That's not what I meant."  
  
"I know. I want you to keep tabs on both sides for now, but don't deter them in any way. I want to see who is cleverer."  
  
With that said, Erika turned and stalked to rehearsal. She had her opening in three day's time and need to be ready for that. Nadir sighed as he remembered something his father said once, All Phantoms can be reasoned with unless they were in love or demanding revenge. Nadir wondered absently which one his friend was in.  
  
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MW (hold up a katana and a package of eggs) Okay so I didn't hurt the bear, but I haven't a qualm about destroying these eggs. So review. 


	8. Chapter 8

Nightmare walks out with a sign: No notes. Mysha is currently reading a new book.  
  
Nightmare: She is also looking for walk ons for the next few chapters. Volunteers must tell her what job they would like in the opera house. You have until 9/30 to let her know.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 8- Revelations and Cheap Shots  
  
Sherlock escorted Beth into the restaurant. They were armed with more information on the mysterious Erika Noir. Beth felt they should take a more friendly approach with the young lady since she did help save her. Beth never told Sherlock that she felt a strange kinship with the young singer. She felt it wasn't appropriate to mention it. This whole thing seemed to have taken a dark twist. Beth froze when she spotted the Count sitting with his entourage. Unknowingly, she clutched Sherlock's arm tight.  
  
"Don't worry, my dear Lestrade. He will get his in the end." Sherlock soothed as they entered the main dining area. Before they could take a step farther, Erika Noir came walking up. She was dressed in jeans and a t shirt. She stopped in front of them.  
  
"I'm glad you are okay, Inspector. The Phantom told me what happened." Erika smiled, "Please won't you two join us? The Theater Company has been talking about you two non stop since you walked in."  
  
"Actually, we wanted to talk with, Mademoiselle Noir." Sherlock replied.  
  
"Really, well, at least eat with us. Then we can talk afterwards." Erika compromised.  
  
"An excellent idea." Lestrade smiled as she pulled away from Holmes and walked over to the noisy table of theater people.  
  
Erika smirked at Holmes, "Just walks right in, doesn't she?"  
  
"One of her more admirable traits." Sherlock sighed as he followed her. Erika watched them. Her mind began to think of ways to get them together. Silently, she glared at the Count. She was about to walk over to his table when she noticed the detectives watching her closely. Smirking, she turned and walked away.  
  
Unlike her meal last night, Beth thoroughly enjoyed this one. She laughed with Buquet's jokes and listened as Madame Giry told her stories of the Opera House. She turned to Sherlock to see him in a deep argument with the lighting crew over the old lime lights that were still used. Erika smiled at Beth when Madame Giry turned to Beth.  
  
"So, Inspector," Madame Giry began solemnly, "I hear that the Count has marked you as his next conquest."  
  
Erika spoke up first, "Really, Melissa. Must you ruin the poor girl's meal by bringing that scum up?"  
  
Buquet agreed, "Oui. She doesn't need that right now. Ignore her, mademoiselle, she has lousy timing."  
  
Nadir took a seat by Holmes and stated, "Besides Holmes is with her. You don't need to worry about her now. I've heard of your exploits in New London. You are very capable with your cane."  
  
Holmes added hastily, "My Inspector Lestrade can most definitely take care of herself."  
  
Lestrade choked on her wine when she heard the words 'My Inspector Lestrade' came out of his mouth. Erika handed her a napkin. Lestrade took gratefully and wiped her mouth. No one commented on Holmes possessiveness. In fact nadir even distracted them by asking how the rehearsals were coming. Erika took advantage of the cover to whisper to Lestrade.  
  
"To answer your question from the other day, yes." Erika said into her ear. Lestrade looked at Erika in surprise. Erika motioned for Lestrade to follow her. Lestrade nodded and followed Erika away from the table. Sherlock was about to follow when Nadir stopped him.  
  
"Don't worry. Erika will protect her. Also The Phantom will be with them." Nadir said, "Besides I'm sure you have a few questions for me."  
  
"Indeed I do." Sherlock remarked as he turned towards the normal reserved Nadir.  
  
**************8888888888888888888***************************************  
  
Erika stepped out into the cool night air. She loved the night time. Turning she waited for the Inspector to come out. Lestrade stepped out and walked up to Erika. Erika continued down into the garden that was behind the restaurant. Lestrade fell in step beside her. Beth turned as Erika began to hum.  
  
"Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing." Erika sang softly.  
  
Beth smiled, "My father use to tell me stories like Little Lotte."  
  
Erika seemed surprised, "Really, Lotte was a story that has been passed down through my family. I thought I was the only one who had heard of her."  
  
Lestrade shook her head, "Despite everything, whenever I feel scared and alone I remember Little Lotte. She helped me survive some of my worst ordeals.  
  
"Like what chased you from Texas." Erika observed.  
  
Lestrade nodded silently and asked, "Erika, why do you and The Count hate each other?"  
  
Erika stopped walking and turned towards Lestrade, "He took away someone that I cared about greatly. He killed them in cold blood when they protected me and tried to kill me too."  
  
Lestrade was about to ask who, when she realized the answer, "Your father?"  
  
Erika nodded sadly and looked up at the night sky, "Yes. My father and I were walking home one night along the Rue Scribe. We had just heard that I would go to Milan to continue my training and were going to celebrate, when The Count ambushed us. He knocked my father down and came after me. My father jumped in front of me and took the shot that was meant for me. My father told me to run and I did. Mon Dieu, I can still hear the other shots. When I turned around, my gentle father was laying on the ground dying. I ran back and drove the Count off. He wasn't expecting it and ran away. My father died in my arms as I tried to save him."  
  
"I'm sorry." Lestrade consoled as she saw the tears in Erika's eyes.  
  
Erika wiped them away and said, "Can anyone blame me for wanting him dead? When he went to jail, I went to Milan. The need to get away was great. I still have dreams about that night my life changed. I was angry that he was allowed out as if his crime wasn't all that bad."  
  
"And you came back. We knew you had returned at least a week prior to your appearance at the Opera." Lestrade stated.  
  
Erika laughed gently, "I came back to see if he had changed. After your ordeal and Calotte turning up dead, I knew he hadn't. Merde, I knew when I first saw him strutting around the Opera House that he hadn't. So I allied myself with The Phantom to take him down and make him pay for everything he had done to those who come to the Opera House."  
  
"You are a friend of the Phantom then?"  
  
"My family has always been close to the Phantom." Erika smiled mysteriously, "Your detective is trying to discover that connection."  
  
"He is? Well, we discovered quite a bit about you."  
  
"Really like what?"  
  
"You didn't just study music in Milan. You took several courses at the local science university."  
  
"Please continue."  
  
"We couldn't access your records on those courses, but I have a feeling some of them dealt with physiology of the human body."  
  
"I'm intrigued. How long was I there for?"  
  
"At least three years, since you graduated early. Then The La Scala Theater accepted you into its troupe full time."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Very good work, Inspector. I'm very impressed. Not too many people bother to look that far into my background. Now may I tell you about yourself?"  
  
"Yes of course."  
  
"You were born in Texas. Your father used to live New London and you still have several family members there. He went to a Texas university and settled thee. He married a local schoolteacher and they had one daughter, you. Your father died during a raid on a gang's hideout when you were seven. You took his death very hard and since were determined to become a U.S Marshal. You were valedictorian in your high school. However during your senior year something happened that lead you to ultimately leave Texas. Your grades had slipped around early May and you had transferred to a boarding school in New London. You stayed there for an extra year to get the training needed to get accepted by The New Scotland Yard Academy. You are the youngest person to ever reach Inspector." Erika ticked off gently and smiled at Lestrade's shocked look, "You are not the only person who does their homework."  
  
"Does the Phantom know all this?"  
  
"Yes, he does." Erika sighed softly, "Beth what happened to cause you to run? You know my reasons. Tell me yours."  
  
"I'm not ready to talk about it yet. If I tell anyone, Sherlock would be the first to know."  
  
"I understand. He is your closest friend."  
  
"Yes, he is."  
  
"You love him a lot." Erika stated finally.  
  
Lestrade sputtered in response. Erika smiled mysteriously. She heard some rustling around her but ignored it until the Inspector was back inside. Lestrade decided to change the subject quickly.  
  
"Erika," Lestrade said quickly, "What happened to Christine Daae? The Phantom won't tell Holmes."  
  
"That is another reason why there has al ways been a rivalry between the Phantom and the de Chagnies. They have always fought over the love of a woman." Erika sighed, "In the end someone from each side must die. It is a cycle that will continue until the end of both families."  
  
"That doesn't answer my question."  
  
"It wasn't meant to. I think you should head in before your detective begins to worry."  
  
"Are you coming?"  
  
"In a moment. I need to be alone with my thoughts." Erika stated as she looked at the stars. Lestrade wanted to say more but instead walked back to the restaurant. She could tell from how Ericka was standing that she didn't want to talk about it. Lestrade left the garden and returned to the table to see Nadir and Holmes laughing. She smiled as she sat down next to Holmes where she belonged.  
  
Out in the garden, Erika closed her eyes as she fought against the memory of the night her whole world changed. She stood out here that night with her father as they stared at the stars. He loved looking at the night sky. His favorite spot was the top of Opera House. Erika wiped her eyes and went to turn around. She ran right into Moriarty who stood there unmasked. They stared right into each other's eyes. Moriarty was unsure of what to say. He had overheard the conversation between Erika and Lestrade.  
  
"Fancy meeting you here." Erika spoke up at last, "I take it you saw his reply."  
  
Moriarty felt relieved when she brought up the Phantom, "I intend to do as he suggests."  
  
"Then you are either very brave or very foolish."  
  
"Holmes has been sniffing out his trial. I will find the Phantom first."  
  
"Why do you want The Phantom anyways? You are intelligent enough that you don't need his mind. Besides too many geniuses tends to lead to a struggle for dominance."  
  
"I want his inventions. It is rumored that he has made several advances in technology and science through the years. Considering your background in chemistry, I'd say he had probably made several advances in the area of chemicals and medicine. Or do you not have several degrees in chemistry and herbology?"  
  
"I may have underestimated your ability to gather information. When did you decide to focus on me?"  
  
"After our first meeting. You greatly intrigued me, Mademoiselle Noir. Not many people do."  
  
"The mysterious is always attractive. People will always follow a mask." Erika stated, "Bebe Jarret from the book House of Gold."  
  
"Your mask is beautiful one."  
  
"Why, Professor, are you flirting with me?" Erika joked softly. Moriarty smiled and took her hand. Gently he kissed the inside of her wrist and flashed her smile. Erika's heart stopped and a blush crept into her cheek.  
  
"I intend to win this game of wits, mademoiselle." Moriarty promised softly, "Until we meet again."  
  
Moriarty walked back into the garden leaving Erika alone with her thoughts and feelings. Merde, Erika thought, he doesn't fight fair. Erika turned back to the night sky. The stars winked at her. Erika sighed and began to walk towards the restaurant. She didn't notice the ionizer that was pointed at her. Suddenly pain burst through her upper body and shout left her lips as she hit the floor of the garden.  
  
Moriarty was almost out of the garden when he heard the shot and the shout. He turned and ran back into the garden. Common sense told him he should leave before he was spotted but Erika was still in there. He came upon the clearing where he left Erika to see her laying on the floor passed out. A dark figure was about to shoot her again, when Moriarty made his presence known by running towards Erika's assailant. The figure turned and disappeared back into the bushes.  
  
Moriarty was going to give chase but remembered that Erika was injured. He knelt next to her to examine her wound. It wasn't too bad. She would be okay, but he needed to get her out of here before whoever attacked her gets back. Gently, Moriarty picked her up. In the distance he could hear footsteps approaching. Silently he ducked behind a set of bushes. He could see Sherlock and Lestrade arrive onto the scene. He began to sneak towards the entrance and bumped into Nadir. Before Moriarty could blink, Erika was in Nadir's arms.  
  
"You better go, monsieur, before they see you. The Phantom won't want you to be caught." Nadir stated seriously.  
  
"Someone tried to hurt her."  
  
"I know and I promise you that they won't succeed. Trust me, Monsieur Moriarty, she is safe with me." Nadir vowed, "Now hurry before they find you."  
  
Moriarty relented. He knew he couldn't carry her away. The Phantom was watching over her and if she went missing, he would search for her. Moriarty nodded and ran towards the entrance of the garden and into the street. He didn't want to verbally spar with Holmes right now. Nadir smiled when Holmes and Lestrade joined him.  
  
"Is she?" Lestrade asked concerned.  
  
"No. It's very shallow. I can take care of it." Nadir sighed.  
  
"Come Lestrade we need to head in and question The Count. He disappeared from his table before the shot was fired. He may know what happened." Sherlock suggested knowing they wouldn't get any more out of Nadir.  
  
Nadir nodded his good bye and left garden carrying his load. Buquet spotted him carrying Erika and walked up. Nadir asked him to call Danesh and tell him that Erika was hurt. Nadir stepped into a cab and left the restaurant. The Count stepped out of the crowd with a smirk of triumph on his face. Satisfied with the results he walked away from the restaurant. Now for the Inspector.  
  
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Erika woke up in a strange bed. She sat up causing Nadir to fall over with a scream. Danesh began to laugh as he came forward with some food. Erika smiled as she took the tray. Nadir dusted himself off and grumbled at the other two.  
  
"Sorry, Khan, what was that?" Erika joked and winced at the pain in her shoulder.  
  
"He's been hovering over you like a mother hen." Danesh smiled.  
  
"Speaking of which, what happened?" Erika asked as she spooned up some soup.  
  
"Someone tried to shoot you. Lestrade and Holmes will over a bit later to check on you. They found an abandon ionizer in the garden and two set of foot prints. One leading back to the restaurant and the other leading away." Nadir explained as he sat on the bed.  
  
"The filthy Count." Erika growled.  
  
"He has an alibi. Several people saw him at the front entrance when the shots were fired. But I don't think he is totally innocent." Danesh sniffed.  
  
"We all agreed on that point." Nadir stated, "The question is what to do now?"  
  
"The show must go on. Tonight is The Masquerade Ball and I will attend as originally planned." Erika remarked, "I refuse to give the Count the satisfaction of not showing up."  
  
"That's our little sister." Danesh said with pride as he checked Erika's bandages.  
  
"I agree. But I think the Phantom needs to make an appearance as well." Nadir grumbled.  
  
Erika brightened up, "Nadir, did I hear you right? Are you encouraging the Phantom to make a public appearance?"  
  
"Against my better judgment." Nadir sighed, "Is there anything you will require from your home?"  
  
"My costume, Nadir, and Ayesha. Tonight, I will leave no doubt in the count's mind not to mess with me." Erika grinned evilly.  
  
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All of Paris spent the day preparing for the annual Opera Masquerade Ball. Holmes and Lestrade went out with Leroux looking for some costumes. Lestrade picked out a beautiful medieval gown of blue and silver and a pair of fairy wings. Keeping with Lestrade's choice, Holmes found an excellent costume of King Arthur. Later they went to Nadir's apartment to see Erika who loved their costumes.  
  
"Belle! Very beautiful, Beth. You will look like a real queen in this. You should have Madame Giry do your hair." Erika suggested when she saw the gown and clothing, "And Monsieur Holmes, You will look like a real king in that outfit. I hope you keep track of how many people kneel to you."  
  
"Where's your costume, Mademoiselle Noir?" Sherlock asked.  
  
"You will see it at the ball. It's a surprise. I also hear the Phantom will be appearing." Erika confided gently. Nadir coughed gently getting everyone's attention.  
  
"I'm afraid Erika needs her rest in order to be ready for the Ball. We will look for you there tonight." Nadir smiled as he walked them to the door and slammed it shut.  
  
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That night Holmes began to change into his costume. Lestrade was changing in the bathroom. Holmes enjoyed dressing up in disguises. They allowed him to be more than what he could be. He could be someone other than the Great Detective. He just finished applying the make up when the bathroom door opened and Lestrade stepped out. Holmes froze in the motion of tightening the cap on the putty at the vision in front of him.  
  
Lestrade's brown hair was curled and braided with bluebells intertwined. A few stray hairs framed her face. The dress clung to her curves in a tempting way. Sherlock felt his throat go dry as he noticed how the two colors brought out her eyes. What caught his attention was a silver pendant that hung around her neck. Sherlock walked towards her entranced by the transformation.  
  
Lestrade's heart was pounding in her ears. Holmes's eyes never left her as he walked over. Gently he reached for the pendant. His warm hands barely brushed her cool skin, but the contact was enough to stop her heart from beating. After a few minutes, his blue eyes met hers. Lestrade nearly bolted back into the bathroom when Holmes hit his kneels.  
  
"I am at your service, Queen Mab." Holmes smiled at her.  
  
Lestrade felt relief wash over as she joked back, "Arise, brave knight. There is no need to kneel, since we are both of royal blood."  
  
Holmes jumped up. A mischievous twinkle gleamed in his eye. He offered his arm which Lestrade took willingly and together they left for the ball.  
  
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Moriarty clasped the black cloak around his shoulders. Fenwick handed him a white mask similar to the real Phantom's. Moriarty put it on and stared in the mirror. It wasn't a bad costume. He would lure the Phantom out of his hiding place tonight. He turned to Fenwick.  
  
"You know the plan." Moriarty stated darkly.  
  
"Yes, master. I will look for signal as we have planned." Fenwick nodded.  
  
"Good. Don't fail me." Moriarty growled as he left the room. He pulled on a pair of white gloves and placed a black fedora on top of his head. Tonight he will meet with the Phantom.  
  
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Myshawolf peeks up from The Complete Phantom of the Opera: Hey if you review, I'll make omelets with the eggs I threatened last chapter. And yes I am obsessed.*smiles widely* You know you love me that way. 


	9. Chapter 9

Myshawolf: HI!!! Okay here is the next chapter. But first I have a few notes: For Jaka, Queen Mab is the queen of the fairies according to Celtic lore. Northstar, I'm sorry if it seems forced. I'll work on that and here's a cookie for catching the clue in chapter 7. I'll give anyone a pizza if they can figure out which bloodline Ruelle the current pain.er.Count is from? YamiStarFireDragon, thanks for volunteering. I think that is everything.  
  
Nightmare peeks out: The omelets, you idiot.  
  
MW: Oh yeah. Northstar what spices do you have? I only have cheese and bacon. *smiles* On with the show.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 9- Enter the Red Death.  
  
The party was in full swing by the time the major players arrived. However the main staircase was roped off. Leroux joined them with a smile. When Holmes motioned to the roped off area, Leroux sighed.  
  
"It is tradition that the managers introduce the troupe to the revelers." Leroux explained, "Just as it's tradition for the Phantom to make an appearance."  
  
"When will they do that?" Lestrade asked loudly to be heard over the crowd.  
  
"Soon, hopefully. I think the managers are waiting for the main patrons to arrive then they will start the show." Leroux considered as he searched the crowd. His eyes fell on a young man dressed as an Egyptian high priest. Danesh waved them over. Leroux lead the way over.  
  
"Sherlock Holmes, Beth Lestrade, I want you to meet the head chef at the Café Seine, Danesh Nemo, boyfriend to the opera's own Nadir Khan." Leroux introduced.  
  
"It's nice to meet you two again under much more pleasant circumstances." Danesh smiled.  
  
Lestrade cleared her throat, "Holmes, I'm feeling a little dry. I'm going to get a drink."  
  
Danesh pointed her toward a barely visible table, "That's one of the refreshment tables. Be careful Mademoiselle Lestrade. The revelers can be a little rowdy."  
  
"So can the members of the opera." Leroux pointed out with a frown.  
  
"Now, now Nadir was very drunk when he tried to hit on you last year." Danesh laughed.  
  
Lestrade walked away from the conversation with a smile on her face. She slowly made her way to the refreshment table when she ran into a tall Phantom. After all, her run ins with the real deal she knew it was reveler.  
  
"That's a great costume." She commented as she passed. The 'Phantom's' eyes narrowed at the sound at her voice.  
  
After a few moments, he swept into a bow and said, "Thank you, Mademoiselle Lestrade."  
  
The 'Phantom' walked away with a definite spring in his step. Lestrade watched him go and wonder how he knew her. She tried to place his voice and came up short. Deciding that he was a member of the troupe, Lestrade shrugged it off and continued to the table. She poured herself some punch and took a sip. She spotted an overly ornate bullfighter approaching her.  
  
"Ah Inspector, I was hoping to see you again." The Count stated dramatically.  
  
Lestrade's eyes flashed with anger, "Zed off. You are lucky I'm an officer of the peace or I would tear you into little pieces. It's very tempting to help Erika Noir when she does it."  
  
"Erika Noir." The Count growled, "Is not all she appears to be."  
  
"She is more truthful than you." Lestrade spat back and smiled sweetly, "Now if you will excuse me, my escort is waiting."  
  
The Count seethed as Lestrade turned her back to him. Moriarty listened from a distance and smiled to himself. Bravo, Inspector, he thought to himself. He watched The Count carefully. Maybe he was the key to getting the Phantom to appear. He glanced at the main staircase to see the two managers appear. Moriarty walked to the front. He wanted to be front and center for this. He glanced over to see Lestrade rejoin Holmes without further interference from The Count.  
  
Moriarty turned his attention back to the managers. Madame Firmin was dressed as a she devil. Monsieur Firmin was dressed as a priest. They stood on the first landing. Underneath their masks, Moriarty could see that they were beaming brightly to the audience.  
  
Madame Firmin spoke first, "Welcome, friends, to the annual Masquerade ball. This year we pleased to welcome back the daughter of a former employee. She has graciously agreed to fill in as prima soprano until a replacement can be found."  
  
Monsieur Firmin added, "If we are lucky, it will be never."  
  
The crowd laughed lightly while Madame Firmin scolded her husband, "Andre, please. As I was saying, Erika Noir has come back to Paris to sing. Her father, Erik Noir VI, was the first chair violin in our orchestra. He played for many years and often tutored our own violinists and singers. Erika use to sing in the corps before her father's tragic death five years ago."  
  
Suddenly a voice high above shouted, "Hurry, Firmin, we don't have all night! Erika doesn't want her life story told."  
  
Another voice agreed, "Oui, we want to join the fun."  
  
Madame Firmin sighed loudly, "Opera people. Fine, Maestro."  
  
Suddenly, beautiful music filled the room. Lestrade smiled as she recognized the play it was from. She turned to Holmes and leaned over.  
  
"This is from the play, The Phantom of the Opera." Lestrade whispered. Holmes nodded and smiled as he listened. It was beautiful music. Holmes felt someone brush by and spotted a clown walk by. Across the way stood a wolf. As the music began to turn dark, Sherlock noticed the managers walking towards the center of the crowd. As the managers opened their mouth to speak, the wolf stepped forward.  
  
The wolf looked at the clown who had also stepped forward and whispered, "Monsieur Firmin?"  
  
The clown whispered low as well, "Monsieur Andre?" then singing in a feminine voice, "Dear Andre what a splendid party!"  
  
The wolf sang back, "The prologue to a bright New Year."  
  
Suddenly an enchantress joined them singing lightly, "Quite a night! I'm impressed."  
  
A female demon shouted from the stairs, "Well, one does one's best."  
  
Together they sang loudly and raised their imaginary glasses to the managers, "Here's to us!"  
  
The wolf smiled at the crowd, "I must say all the same it's a shame that 'Phantom' fellow isn't here."  
  
High above the demon on the stair case, The Opera Company descended singing. Lestrade smiled to herself. It was a beautiful sight. Holmes smiled as well. He had yet to see Erika.  
  
Masquerade! Paper faces on parade Masquerade! Hide your face So the world will never find you!  
  
Masquerade! Every face different shade Masquerade! Look around There's another Mask behind you.  
  
Moriarty was impressed by the array of costumes. Each member showed off their costume to the delight of the crowd. The Member circulated on the main floor while a few stayed on the stairs. Moriarty spotted two figures running down the stairs. One was male and dressed as an Egyptian Pharaoh in it's finest. Moriarty recognized him as Nadir. The other was definitely a woman in a long medieval gown in the colors of red and gold. Her brown hair was littered with red ribbons. Her mask was red and gold but had an eerie death look to it. Was that Erika?  
  
Soon they reached the landing and sang loudly to the crowd, "But who can name the face?"  
  
The chorus took back over. Erika smiled out over the crowd. Her eyes sparkled with an energy no one has ever seen before. Nadir motioned that they move the side as the other principals come down the stairs. Erika moved to one set of stairs while Nadir moved to the others.  
  
Erika slowly stepped down the stairs. She scanned the crowd as she waited for her next line. She spotted Holmes, Lestrade, Danesh, and Leroux standing together. They seem to be enjoying the song. Her eyes moved away from her friends and found The Count glaring at everything around him. Erika smiled, if the Count was unhappy it just made her day. Her blue eyes fell upon a tall Phantom that stood on the edge of the crowd. Her mind snapped back to attention went she heard Monsieur Firmin's voice sing, "What a Masquerade!"  
  
Erika walked down the stairs singing, "Think of it! A secret engagement! Look your future bride! Just think of!"  
  
Nadir sang back, "But why is it secret? What have we to hide?"  
  
Erika walked to the center of the floor as the other members move away. She turned to Nadir and sang urgently, "Please, let's not fight."  
  
Nadir sang back, "Christine, you're free."  
  
"Wait till the time is right"  
  
"When will that be? It's an engagement, not a crime. Christine, what are you afraid of?"  
  
"Let's not argue."  
  
"Let's not argue."  
  
"Please pretend."  
  
"I can only hope I'll."  
  
"You will..."  
  
Together as they stood facing each other their voices combined, "Understand in time!"  
  
Soon the wolf jumped up to grab Erika and spun her into a dance. Several members began to waltz together, and quickly change partners. Erika laughed as she was spun from one partner to the next. Buquet spun her a little too hard and she bumped right into the tall Phantom. He caught her before she could fall. Their eyes met and Erika gasped as he held her. Feeling several people watching them, Erika thought quickly. She stepped out of his arms and pulled him into the dance as if he was always a part of it. He seemed grateful to her. As they moved together with a grace few people possess, Holmes began to recognize it from somewhere.  
  
Suddenly the company stopped dancing and began to sing the final verses of the song. The Phantom snuck back into the crowd away from Holmes' view. Erika stood by Nadir without her impromptu partner.  
  
Masquerade! Grinning yellow Spinning Reds Masquerade! Take your Fill! Let the spectacle Astound you.  
  
The Crowd burst into thunderous applause. Danesh left their side and hugged his boyfriend. Erika smiled widely at the approaching detectives. Nadir placed an arm around Danesh's shoulder.  
  
Danesh pouted, "Is there something you two are not telling me?"  
  
Erika broke out laughing while Nadir frowned. Danesh looked between the two confused. Erika calmed down long enough to say something.  
  
"Merde, Khan. I know your boyfriend better than you." Erika chuckled.  
  
"What was going on? I thought the managers were going to sing." Leroux asked.  
  
Nadir smiled, "They were taking too long. Krissi and Frany took matters into their own hands with some help."  
  
"Krissi, in the wolf costume, is the member of the stage crew. She does set design. Frany the clown is a viola player in the orchestra." Erika explained.  
  
"And the enchantress and demon?" Holmes asked.  
  
Erika smiled wider, "Star North from make-up and Areku from the chorus. I think were those two."  
  
"They were interesting to watch." Lestrade added.  
  
"And this is one of their calmer days." Erika joked, "They'll be over here in a moment to meet you two."  
  
True to Erika's word, the wolf and clown came running up. They stopped right by them. The wolf turned to Nadir. Nadir had a half amused expression on his face as if he knew what was coming. Before she could speak, the clown cut in.  
  
"You were here the whole time, right?" Nadir stated before either could speak.  
  
"Right, when did you get ESP?" the clown asked in awe.  
  
"I think we used him as cover one too many times." the wolf commented dryly.  
  
"Who did you get this time?" Erika questioned, but she had her answer by the grin on their faces.  
  
"The Count." both piped up at the same time.  
  
"I got him with some of Krissi's disappearing ink." Frany motioned to her squirt flower.  
  
"Except it's corrosive to silk." Krissi groaned, "What kind of idiot wears silk to one of these things."  
  
Danesh choked back a laugh. Nadir tried not to be amused by their antics. He really did. Erika didn't even bother hiding her pleasure. The two troublemakers turned their attention to the two detectives.  
  
"It's nothing personal between us and The Count." Frany sighed.  
  
"He is just way too arrogant for his own good." Krissi supplied helpfully.  
  
"If you cover for us, we'll give you a piece of very sound advice." Frany brightened when an idea hit her.  
  
"Let's hear the advice first." Lestrade smiled.  
  
"When in the lower levels, keep your hands at the level of your eyes." Frany stated seriously, "For your own protection."  
  
"We heard that before. Why is that?" Holmes asked interested in what the two young ladies had to say. The two glanced at Nadir for permission, Nadir nodded as did Erika. Solemnly they glanced at each other. Krissi went first.  
  
Very quietly, she whispered as she rubbed her neck, "The Punjab Lasso is down there."  
  
Frany nodded, "They protect the Phantom's home. They are especially worst when a de Chagny kills The Phantom's love."  
  
"Mademoiselle Daae was the first victim of that feud." Krissi added sadly, and then clamped her mouth shut when she realized she said too much. She turned to Erika and whispered, "I'm sorry, Mademoiselle Noir. That is your story to tell."  
  
Erika grinned sadly, "Its okay, Krissi. I think The Count has given up on you two. Go and have fun."  
  
The two smiled and waved goodbye as they ran back into the crowd. Lestrade found Holmes smiling at their antics. She knew he was thinking of the Irregulars and how those two would get along fine with them. Lestrade turned to ask Erika something about the two troublemakers, only to find that she had disappeared. So had Nadir and Danesh, she noticed.  
  
"Where did they go?" Lestrade asked to no one in particular. Holmes was partially listening as he scanned the crowd for the tall Phantom. Soon, a waltz was playing. Several dancers were on the make shift dance floor. Holmes noticed how it was less crowded there. He gripped Lestrade's hand and pulled her with him.  
  
Lestrade was surprised to find herself out on the dance floor with Holmes. Holmes positioned them to dance in the only way he knew how. Lestrade tried to follow his lead. After a few missteps, they began to glide gracefully across the floor. Lestrade smiled as she enjoyed the feeling of dancing with someone who didn't want to hurt her later. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Buquet dancing with Erika. Erika smiled the older man much how a niece smiles at a beloved uncle. This was her home. Lestrade doubted that Erika would run away from the Opera House again. Lestrade smiled at Holmes as she thought of her little family in New London. That was her home.  
  
Erika danced with Buquet happily. She never realized how much she missed the Opera Company in her time away. Now she was home. She laughed at a joke Buquet told her. She was finally home. Buquet turned when someone tapped his shoulder. Erika looked at the young man dressed as the grim reaper. He didn't talk but motioned that he would like to cut in. Buquet graciously moved aside, allowing the man a dance.  
  
Unnerved by the man's hard stare, Erika accepted his grip. They began to dance. The tall Phantom watched with narrowed eyes as Erika flinched from the man's grip on her hand. Soon the man tried to lead her from the dance floor. Erika began to fight against his grip silently. She didn't want to draw attention. The tall Phantom stalked over and grabbed the man. Before the man could retaliate, the Phantom knocked him out with on punch. Certain the threat was subdued for now, the tall Phantom turned to Erika.  
  
"Are you all right, Mademoiselle Noir?" He asked gently. Erika stopped rubbing her wrist at the sound of his voice. She knew that voice.  
  
"Oui, Just a little banged up is all." Erika stated carefully as she eyed the man in front of her.  
  
The Phantom nodded. He offered her his arm which Erika accepted gladly. They couldn't talk here, not with the whole Opera Company and patrons watching. Erika didn't want him to be caught, at least not by her doing. The Phantom walked them up to the Box level.  
  
Barely, he heard Erika whisper, "You are a brave or a foolish man, Professor Moriarty."  
  
Moriarty whispered back, "I prefer cunning, Mademoiselle Noir."  
  
Erika chuckled lightly when they reached the landing. Shouting was heard below. Both turned to see Buquet and Madame Giry trying to get the crowd's attention. Erika grabbed Moriarty's arm and pulled him off to the side. They moved to an open spot and watched to see what the duo had on their mind. Erika had a good idea since she suggested something to them.  
  
"Ladies and Gentleman!" Buquet shouted, "Your Attention please! We would like to demonstrate a tradition here in the Opera."  
  
The crowd quieted to a quiet murmur. Buquet beamed happily as Madame Giry spoke up, "Now as you know it is a tradition during the Masquerade Ball to kiss in the new season. We found two couples who are willing to show us how."  
  
Moriarty watched amused as the wolf and clown from earlier herded Holmes and Lestrade in the center of the dance floor. The crowd began to cheer loudly showing their approval. Nadir and Danesh walked out as well. Erika smiled widely as Lestrade and Holmes looked distinctly uncomfortable.  
  
"Here are our couples!" Buquet laughed jovially as he walked over to Lestrade and Holmes, "My lord and lady, we ask that you bring good fortune to the Opera House by kissing each other to start the new season."  
  
Before Holmes and Lestrade seemed affronted by the request. Lestrade began to protest when Madame Giry interrupted her, "Mademoiselle Lestrade, do you want the opera to suffer a misfortunate event because you are afraid of Monsieur Holmes?"  
  
The crowd laughed as Lestrade blushed a bright red for having the truth so blantantly put out. She made a quick decision to prove them wrong. Before Holmes could react, she quickly pecked him on the cheek. Scenes from the night she was drugged flooded back causing her to jump away from Holmes. The crowd hissed their disproval at such a short kiss. Buquet seemed disappointed but Madame Giry shook her head.  
  
Madame Giry sighed, "It all right to be nervous, Lady Lestrade of The Fairies. Why don't we let our Pharaoh and High Priest show you how it is done."  
  
Nadir smiled brightly as he turned to his boyfriend. Danesh grinned wickedly as he grabbed Nadir and kissed him possessively. Erika started laughing at the sight of Nadir caught off guard. Nadir was the most feared man in The Opera House while Danesh was the gentlest man Erika knew. The sight of Danesh ravishing Nadir's mouth in a dominant way was hilarious sight to anyone who knew the two. When Danesh broke off the steamy, Nadir staggered a bit causing the crowd to start laughing. Nadir was grinning like a fool as he grabbed his boyfriend and pulled him away. Danesh was laughing with the crowd as Nadir pulled him away.  
  
Moriarty glanced at Erika's face. Her amused smile seemed to have become sad and wistful. He reached for her hand, hoping to distract her. Erika looked at him and flashed him a brighter smile. He was about to ask her what was wrong when Buquet caught his attention.  
  
"Now back to our other couple since Nadir khan seems to have other things on his mind." Buquet announced. Lestrade and Holmes look distinctly trapped as the crowd began to cheer them on. Holmes realized that there was only one way out. He took Lestrade's arm and turned her towards him. He whispered softly to her as he pulled her close.  
  
"Forgive me."  
  
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MW looks up: Yeah, I'm sure you can figure what happens next. Next chapter is the second half of the party. Remember to review or I won't give you an omelet. 


	10. Chapter 10

MW (peeks out and smiles) Here is Chapter 10. Warning: h/l and m/e. Just trust me on this one. On with the show.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 10- Mirror, Mirror  
  
Before Lestrade could respond, she felt Holmes's lips gently touch her. Lestrade stiffened at the contact, but gradually relaxed into the kiss. It was different from the one they shared earlier in the week. Lestrade felt warm and secure as Sherlock gently held her to him. In the distance, she could hear the roar of the crowd's approval, but it didn't register. Soon Sherlock pulled away. They stared at each other, catching a glimpse of the other's feelings behind their emotional masks.  
  
Lestrade turned to see the Opera Company converge onto her and Holmes. They were offering their thanks and congratulations. She and Holmes tried to thank them without making eye contact with each other. The band began to play again, trying to entice everyone to start dance again. Holmes turned to look at Lestrade and spotted someone else sneaking about. He grabbed Lestrade's arm and motioned in the direction of his quarry. Lestrade turned and glared.  
  
"Fenwick" they both breathed together and quickly worked to get away from the Opera Company.  
  
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Erika turned away from the kissing couple. She was happy for them, but she felt the ache in her heart begin to grow. Not for the first time, she cursed her lot in life. A lot that left no room for love. She went to walk away from the scene below when she felt someone tug her back. Erika glanced down at her hand that Moriarty was still holding. She looked up at his concerned face and eyes. She nearly fell into them.  
  
"What is wrong?" Moriarty asked softly.  
  
Erika pulled her hand away and looked away from him as she whispered, "Nothing. Just a silly urge I have. That's all."  
  
Moriarty didn't say anything in response. He noticed that she seemed lonely and isolated. Perhaps he had misjudged her relationship with the Phantom. Erika turned to walk away when she stopped at the sight of The Reaper coming up the stairs. He glared at her and Moriarty when he joined her. Moriarty gripped Erika's arm and pulled her away.  
  
"Who is that man?" Moriarty asked her as they walked away.  
  
"You got me. He's been following me all night." Erika related, "Nadir noticed him before hand."  
  
Moriarty was about to say something when he caught sight of something that was either comical or disgusting. His mind couldn't decide which. The Count strode towards them. His face was red with indignity as his costume hung in tatters around him revealing a white undershirt and smiley face boxers. (MW: Please take this time to laugh at him uncontrollably.) His brown eyes flashed with a feeling that was beyond hate. Moriarty felt Erika stiffen by his side. Her eyes flashed with hate and sick amusement at the Count's predicament. The Count ignored Moriarty as he stood face to face with Erika. She didn't flinch under his gaze. In fact, Moriarty noticed she had a different air around her. Like she was a different person.  
  
Erika's cool voice broke through the silence and tension, "What's wrong, Ruelle? Lose the fight to the bull?"  
  
"Your little minions did this. Since they have cleverly went into hiding, I'm going to make you pay, Mademoiselle." Ruelle growled.  
  
"How, Ruelle? By shooting me, maybe?" Erika spat back, "I think you should watch out who you threaten, Monsieur. You may open up a can of worms that you will not be able to handle."  
  
"Is that a threat?"  
  
"No." Erika smiled evilly, "A promise. You think what they did was humiliating? Wait until you see what I will do to you when given the chance. Remember, Monsieur, there are worse things than a shattered chandelier."  
  
Erika turned away and walked back towards the boxes. Moriarty watched her make her exit. She reminded him of a queen. Moriarty grinned as he walked after her. Erika Noir was definitely a delightful surprise. He joined her side and felt the heat of her anger roll off of her.  
  
Softly he whispered, "Shall we go somewhere that you can cool off?"  
  
Erika smiled softly, feeling her anger dissipated when she heard his cultured tones, "Afraid I might hit you, Professor?"  
  
Moriarty smirked, "I think I could handle anything that you toss at me, Mademoiselle Noir."  
  
"I may take you up on that challenge someday. There must be a reason why you are by my side. Is my wonderful company?"  
  
"The Phantom. Since you are his partner, I figure he would try to see you before he makes his public appearance. Am I right?"  
  
Erika didn't say anything. She didn't trust herself to. Just once she wished people weren't seeing her in order to see The Phantom. For a moment yesterday she thought Professor James Moriarty was interested in her. Not that anything can come of it. Crime waves just weren't her cup of tea. However she had misjudged his interest. She was just another way to get to the Phantom. Erika shrugged her arms out of his hold.  
  
"Thank for you for your concern, Professor. But I need some time alone." Erika smiled. Moriarty was taken back by the look in her eyes. He could see that the sadness had returned, but there was something else. Was it regret? Erika turned away and walked toward Box Five. Moriarty toyed with going after her until over his comm link, Fenwick's voice squeaked out.  
  
"Master, Holmes and the Yardie are on my tail." Fenwick cried out.  
  
Moriarty sighed, "Where are you?"  
  
"Down on the stage."  
  
"I'll be there."  
  
Moriarty turned back to where Erika has disappeared. He spotted The Reaper running down the hallway. Moriarty began to walk that way. He needed to be sure the Reaper wasn't after Erika. Someone was out to get her if The Count's anger and the failed attempt last night were any indications. Moriarty wanted to assured of her safety, for business reasons. His mind seemed to snort at that reasoning.  
  
Moriarty stalked down the hallway. He was sure a few people would believe he was the Phantom. Maybe that could aid him when he confronted the Reaper. Moriarty frozen when he heard Erika start cursing in French, just she did when The Reaper grabbed her earlier. Moriarty quickened his pace down the hallway towards Box Five. He arrived to find the door locked. On the other side he could hear two voices arguing. One he knew was Erika's. Moriarty rammed his shoulder into the door. He felt the lock begin to give. Confident he could get the door open, Moriarty rammed the door again. It flung open and Moriarty stepped in to see Erika holding a sword to the Reaper's throat.  
  
"The cavalry arrives. " Erika smirked as Moriarty took in the scene in front of him, "Professor, could you unmask this fool?"  
  
Moriarty smiled, "My pleasure, Mademoiselle."  
  
Moriarty stepped up and pulled off the mask. He nearly dropped it when he recognized the man underneath. Moran glared at Moriarty and at Erika. Erika raised an eyebrow at the interplay. Moriarty glared back at the mercenary and returned to Erika's side.  
  
"A friend of yours?" Erika asked gently.  
  
"A very old henchman. I hired him to get rid of Sherlock Holmes and he failed miserably." Moriarty stated, "A mercenary called Moran."  
  
"I wonder who thought I was dangerous enough to have killed."  
  
"It wasn't I. I cut off any dealings with him after New Scotland Yard landed him in jail." Erika felt relieved, "Well, Monsieur Moran, who hired you?"  
  
Moran growled, "I ain't saying."  
  
"Really? I know a few ways we can make you talk." Erika grinned.  
  
"So do I." Moriarty added.  
  
Before any more threats could be uttered, an ionizer shot was fired at the box. Moriarty tackled Erika to the floor while Moran made his escape. Erika looked up to see Moran get away. Moriarty helped her up and they gave chase. They followed Moran down to the stage area.  
  
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Sherlock and Holmes watched as Fenwick aimed at Box Five. He squeezed off a shot before Holmes disarmed him with his cane. Fenwick ducked back into the shadows. Lestrade tried to figure out which way he went.  
  
"Let's split up." Sherlock suggested. Lestrade nodded her agreement and they dove into the shadows.  
  
Sherlock squinted as he walked around the back stage area. He heard an ominous swoosh and dove to the side as a piece came crashing down. Sherlock smiled in the dark. He must be close for his quarry to try and get rid of him. Sherlock walked forward barely making a noise.  
  
Lestrade decided to take the high road and climbed up into the first level of catwalks. She scanned the backstage and just saw Sherlock dodge a piece of scenery. Relief swept over her as he stood up apparently unharmed. Lestrade looked around for some way to help Holmes out.  
  
Moran ran out on to the main stage. He stopped when he heard a loud crash off stage. Was there an ambush waiting for him? He was getting pay too well to give up now. Then he spotted something red on the stage. He smiled as he dashed over to the discarded ionizer. Behind him, he heard approaching footsteps. Now was good of a time as ever to see if it worked. Moran whipped around and fired a blind shot.  
  
Erika heard the shot before she even saw it. She flung herself at Moriarty pushing them both out of the line of fire. Moriarty's arms came around her waist as they fell into the shadows. They waited for more shots to be fired. Erika rested her head against his shoulder as they heard retreating foot steps. Moriarty knew he couldn't risk her. He pulled her toward the dressing room area.  
  
"Erika, I want you to hide here until Moran is caught. I'll knock three times so you know it's me." Moriarty commanded as he pushed her into one of the dressing rooms.  
  
"So I'm to sit here while you play hero. I don't think so. I'm no damsel in distress, Professor." Erika protested.  
  
"Someone is out to kill you, Mademoiselle Noir. I will be particular displeased if you are injured or worse. Now stay here." Moriarty snapped back before slamming the door.  
  
Erika smiled when she realized which dressing room she was in, "Men."  
  
Moriarty headed back to the stage area. He didn't want to have to worry about Erika as well as Fenwick. Once Fenwick had escaped, Moriarty could go back to Erika. Correction, once Fenwick escaped and Moran was dead. Moriarty didn't have time to examine his new feeling of protectiveness. He had a mercenary to kill.  
  
Moran crept around backstage He needed to find a way out before anyone else saw him and recognized him. Stopping behind a crate, he heard someone coming down the metal stairs by him. Moran moved himself into the prefect position to strike.  
  
Lestrade had lost sight of Holmes on the main floor. She had heard the ionizer blast. She hurried down the stairs. Beth had to be sure Sherlock was all right and figure out where Fenwick picked up another ionizer. As she stepped off the last step, she felt an arm come around her neck and an ionizer pressed to her head.  
  
"Don't move, mademoiselle, or I might have to put a hole in that pretty mask." A rough voice whispered, "We are going to walk out of here nice and easy."  
  
Lestrade gulped as they moved towards the main stage. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Sherlock trying to creep up on the man that held her. At the other side, The Tall Phantom was walking towards them. Moran, sensing he was trapped, clicked the safety off the ionizer. Lestrade heard it hum to life, ready to discharge its shot against her temple. Both men froze at the implications of such a shot.  
  
Moran smiled as he backed himself up so he could keep both rescuers in his sight. His back hit a hard object sitting upstage. He was really trapped now. Moriarty noticed Sherlock off to the side in the mirror behind Moran. There had to be away to get him to release Lestrade.  
  
"Don't take another step either of you." Moran ordered.  
  
"Moran, it's been such a long time." Sherlock greeted, "don't tell me Moriarty has rehired you to dispose of me again."  
  
"Moriarty could never pay as much as my new employer." Moran snorted, "Now stay where you are or the girl gets it."  
  
'Come, come, is such violence really necessary." Moriarty suggested.  
  
"You should talk. Where is she?" Moran shouted.  
  
"Mademoiselle Noir is safely hidden away where not even you can find her." Moriarty smiled.  
  
'That's too bad for this girl then. I was willingly trade her for Mademoiselle Noir." Moran spat back, "I'll take her then."  
  
A deep voice echoed through the theater, "I don't think so, wandering child."  
  
The stage lights came on. A warm glow filled the stage and reflected off the mirror. In the mirror appeared another figure, the real Phantom. He stood directly behind Moran. Lifting his cane, The Phantom revealed a slender sword. Moran looked wildly around the stage not once glancing in the mirror. He froze as the cool blade come out of the mirror and settled against his throat.  
  
"Wandering child. So lost. So helpless. Yearning for my guidance." The Phantom sang as he pushed the blade of the sword against Moran's throat, "Let the girl go or I'll slit your throat here and now."  
  
The ionizer hit the floor. The blade left Moran's throat. As soon as the blade cleared, Lestrade elbowed Moran in the stomach and flipped him over her shoulder. The Phantom smiled amused as he faded back into the mirror. Moriarty smirked as Lestrade read Moran his rights.  
  
Suddenly, Moriarty remembered the Phantom. He turned to see that the Phantom had left. Moriarty felt disappointed that the Phantom had slipped by him again. He remembered that Erika was safe and that was what counted right now. Also if he hurried, he could still see The Phantom. He was sure to check on Erika.  
  
With a sweep of his cape, Moriarty descended back into the shadows and walked towards the dressing room. He tried the door and found it unlocked. Moriarty opened the door to find an empty room. On the vanity was Erika's mask and a red rose. Moriarty picked it up and glanced around for some clue as to Erika's whereabouts. He stared at the mirror and blinked in surprise. For a second he thought he saw Erika in the mirror.  
  
Moriarty turned to see the door to the room shut and he was the only person in the room. A small noise caught his attention. Moriarty turned back around to see a note fluttering through the air. Moriarty snatched the note and quickly read it. Again, he was too late. It seems the Phantom had been and gone. This time he took Erika with him. Moriarty was determined to find the Phantom's lair now. He turned and left the empty dressing room, taking the mask with him. He was going to be back for her.  
  
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Buquet surveyed the damage to his set. Next to him stood Krissi the wolf. Lestrade walked over towards them. Krissi looked broken hearted. Lestrade learned that she hand painted each backdrop herself. Lestrade cleared her throat gaining Buquet's attention. He waved her over.  
  
"So, what was the jerk doing here?" Buquet growled. He knew they were going to pull an all-nighter in order to open on time. He wasn't looking forward to explain that to his wife.  
  
Lestrade sighed, "He's a mercenary. Someone at the party was a target. Monsieur Holmes and I think he was hired to kill Erika." Lestrade related.  
  
Krissi snapped out of her funk and asked, "He didn't get her, did he?"  
  
"We don't think so since he demanded that we turn her over to him." Lestrade stated, 'I would like to talk to Erika"  
  
Buquet exchanged a look with his set designer. Krissi coughed as she walked away. Buquet gave Lestrade a sad glance, "No one has seen her. I have sent men to scour the back stage area to find her."  
  
"No one has seen her at all?"  
  
"Star North saw her enter Box Five just before the shooting occurred. She saw Moran run out and went to get help. There is no one in there. I have looked."  
  
"She will turn up."  
  
"Oui. I think the Phantom whisked her away to keep her safe. Erika is the last of her line. He won't let anything happen to her. Just as he protected her all those years ago."  
  
A tall young man walked towards Buquet and Lestrade. He was dressed as a rock star. His brown eyes shown with merriment. He carried a small bundle in his arms.  
  
"Monsieur Buquet, we found the back-up set form the play. Now we don't have to rebuild." The young man blurted out.  
  
"Really, Shawn? How did you find them?"  
  
"This cat led us to them." Shawn beamed as he present a lilac Siamese cat to Buquet. The cat mewed and jumped to Buquet. The cat cuddled close and began to purr.  
  
"Hello to you too, Ayesha. The Phantom must have heard our plight to send you out." Buquet cooed to the cat before turning to Shawn, "Have Krissi inspect the sets and bring them up."  
  
Shawn nodded before running off to find Krissi. Buquet placed Ayesha on the stage Ayesha walked over to Lestrade and wrung through her legs purring loudly. Buquet smiled gently.  
  
"She likes you, inspector. You must have a good soul." Buquet stated softly as Lestrade leaned over to scratch the cat's ears.  
  
Lestrade looked up to see that Buquet had disappeared. However, Madame Firmin was walking towards her to take his place. The Madame seemed worried as she motioned for Holmes to join them. Once the three of them were together, the Madame showed them two notes.  
  
"I just received these on my desk and can't tell which is from the real Phantom. Since you two are so hot to find him, maybe you can tell me." Madame Firmin remarked gravely.  
  
"My dear Managers, I have taken Erika Noir away until our distinguished guests can find out who is out to kill her. Don't worry, she is safe with me and will sing tomorrow night. Your obedient servant, O.G." Sherlock read, "Well, this keeps with his personality that we have seen so far."  
  
Lestrade looked at the other letter and read, "Managers, if you value your theater and company, Mademoiselle Noir will not sing tomorrow night. She is the true poison in the theater. If she sings tomorrow I will bring a plague of death on the Opera House. You have been warned, The Phantom. Holmes, we have two Phantoms running around again."  
  
"So I see." Holmes smiled, "Madame, The Phantom will never hurt the opera House, am I correct?"  
  
The Madame nodded, "Oui. He has guarded the Opera since it was first built."  
  
"So he couldn't have written the letter Lestrade is holding. However we do have a deadly impersonator running around. I would suggest that security be tightened at tomorrow night's performance. For now, we should all rest. I have a feeling tomorrow will a long day."  
  
The Madame smiled, "Merci, Monsieur Holmes. My husband and I agree with your plan and we will meet you here early in the morning."  
  
"Good, we will see you then." Madame stated before leaving.  
  
Lestrade turned to Holmes, "What plan are you talking about?"  
  
Holmes smirked, "I'll explain at the hotel. Shall we?"  
  
**************88888888888***********************************************  
  
Moriarty moved through the back stage area, silently. The stage crew had left for their beds hours ago so Moriarty had the theater to himself. He moved towards the entrance to the cellars when he a movement across the stage caught his eye. He turned and looked around to see who else was there. No one was to be seen.  
  
Suddenly, he heard someone running along the catwalk. He walked away from the cellar door. His eyes were focused on the catwalks high above his head. Something glittered high above him. And a light laughter reached his ears. Was that Erika?  
  
Moving quickly and as quietly as he could, Moriarty gave chase. When his quarry moved he moved, when she stopped he stopped. Soon she was gone from his sight and other senses. Moriarty moved towards where she was last seen. There was two ways she could have gone; up or down. He soon saw a beam of moonlight ahead of him. Moriarty hurried forward to find a door. He pushed it open and froze at the beauty in front of him.  
  
Her hair was down and floated on the wind. It framed her slender face which was now free of her mask. Her robe was a deep blue which accented her eyes. The moonlight drew his eyes to a beautiful gold chain that hung around her neck. A gold ring graced the chain. She was bathed in moonlight as she gazed at the stars. Moriarty didn't remember moving, but somehow he was by her side. Erika turned to him and smiled gently, coyly.  
  
Her voice was a soft as the breeze as she greeted him, "Hello, Professor. It is a lovely night, is it not?"  
  
Moriarty caught her chin in his hand. He wasn't sure what possessed him to take this course of action, but he felt compelled to follow it. His face was inches from hers when he answered her question.  
  
"Oui, it is now."  
  
******************888888888888888888888888******************************  
  
Lust walks out and looks at what was typed: To kiss or not to kiss? That is the question. Hey, Mysha, there's a lot of kissing in this fic.  
  
MW: You would notice that, wouldn't you? (to her readers) When you review the omelet of your choice is waiting for you. Thanks. 


	11. Chapter 11

Myshawolf is sitting at her computer typing. Nightmare is looking over her shoulder with her bow and arrows ready.  
  
Nightmare: I can't believe you are filing away Chapter 11.  
  
Lust walks in: What is Mysha doing?  
  
Nightmare: Filing Chapter 11.  
  
Lust: WHAT!? You mean she's broke!  
  
Nightmare: Have you been drinking ambrosia again? Where did you get that idea?  
  
Lust: You said she was filing Chapter 11. Chapter 11 means you are bankrupt a.k.a. broke.  
  
Myshawolf begins to hit her head against the keyboard: I thought I gave these guys brains.  
  
Nightmare: The order hasn't come in yet. (to Lust) While Mysha is technically broke, she's not bankrupt. She has just finishing typing Chapter 11 of Masquerade. Lust No Baka! (Translation from Japanese: Lust you are an idiot. *or something like that*) No omelet for you.  
  
Lust: o.O  
  
MW: On with the show!  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 11 - Meeting of the minds 2  
  
Erika watched in shock as Moriarty gently placed his lips on hers. A shock went through her body causing her to relax against him. Moriarty felt her relax and wrapped his free arm around her waist. Erika closed her eyes and enjoyed the soft kiss. It was tender and spoke of mutual respect that they had for each other. Erika nearly protested when she felt Moriarty move away. She opened her eyes to see him staring over Paris. Erika looked out as well. The rules were changing again.  
  
She felt a hand brush her cheek. When she looked back, he was gone. Erika stood on the roof motionless for a few minutes. Gently her fingers touched her lips and she nearly cried. Why did he do that? Why did he kiss her? In the distance, the bells of Norte Dame rang out the time. Erika closed her eyes as she listened to their beautiful melody. She gazed back at the stars.  
  
"Goodnight, Papa." Erika whispered before leaving the starry night.  
  
Moriarty decided to follow her back to the Phantom's home. As she moved along the catwalk, Erika sensed she wasn't alone. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see a figure moving stealthily behind her. Erika decided to give the intruder a chase like one never had seen before. She broke into a run down the catwalk. Behind her, she could hear her pursuer. A sly smile touched her lips as she launched herself into the ropes high above the stage. She gripped the rope tightly before sliding down it to the next level of catwalks. Erika landed gracefully and ran down that catwalk to the next set of ropes. Moriarty watched her move a kind of grace he had never seen before. His eyes, filled with silent admiration, never left her.  
  
Soon she landed on the stage. Moriarty held his breath as she gazed back up at him. She was sitting on the stage, looking refreshed and excited. Moriarty was about to hurry down, when he heard an eerie creaking come from the stage. He looked down to watch Erika slide below the stage via a trapdoor that opened below her. The stage opened its mouth and swallowed her up like she was sacrifice to its power over people. Moriarty frantically hurried down the steps to the stage level.  
  
He didn't bother to check the stage but hurried to the cellars. Remembering the advice he had overheard two young members give Lestrade and Holmes, he brought his hand to the level of his eyes. Ahead he could hear Erika's laughter echoing in the hallway. He raced on with a vague feeling he was chasing a ghost. Soon he came to a set of stairs. He hesitated for a moment before rushing down them and froze in shock at the sight in front of him.  
  
Spread out before him was a beautiful lake. Its waters gleamed in the torchlight. Moriarty walked to the water's edge in a trance. His mind could only think one thought, the rumors were true. Moriarty stared out over the lake to see a boat. A woman's voice singing reached his ears. His eyes focused on the boat and he could make out a figure in black standing as it steered the boat. It blocked Moriarty's view of the rest of the boat. So, he had a lake to conquer in order to reach the Phantom's lair. Moriarty smiled as he turned away. Tonight was very productive indeed. He gently touched his lips as he thought of the kiss he shared with Erika. They will need to talk.  
  
**********************8888888888888888888*******************************  
  
The Opera House was bustling the next morning as the stage crew tried to get the sets and lights ready for that night's performance. Buquet was shouting out orders left and right. The more experienced stage hands just rolled their eyes and kept working.  
  
Out towards the front of the stage, the orchestra did a dry run through of the score. Every so often the conductor would stop them to give directions. Frany sighed after the tenth time and glanced to wards the stage. Krissi was on the stage inspecting set with Shawn. Looking up, Krissi stuck her tongue at her friend which Frany returned.  
  
"Frany, pay attention." The conductor scolded before continuing his speech.  
  
In the wings the corps were reviewing dance steps and vocals. Madame Giry took the dancers through rigorous moves multiple times. She tapped her cane keeping time and every so often would shout out directions or comments.  
  
"Left, my dancers. Areku, Iara twirl not jump. Once more, my dancers." Madame Giry shouted loudly.  
  
Farther backstage, the make up and costume crew were repairing costumes and making sure the right costume and make up were in the right rooms. Music flowed from the rehearsal room as the principals ran through the music before the dress rehearsal. Erika sang will her heart in the music taking the breath away from everyone who was listening. The managers grinned to themselves. Tonight would be a great success.  
  
Nadir prowled around the theater, making sure the exits were secure. There have been too many late night intruders for his liking. He was checking the lobby when two shabby looking young men entered the Opera House. Nadir walked over to intercept them.  
  
"Can I help you?" Nadir asked firmly, "The Opera House is closed to the public during rehearsal."  
  
The taller of the two men by a few inches spoke up with guttery French dialect, "We are the new swing shifts. The Firmins hired us to help out with tonight's performance."  
  
Nadir cocked an eyebrow at this, "Really? I will have to check with them. Until then you may wait outside."  
  
Monsieur Firmin shouted as he walked across the lobby, "It is all right, Nadir. My wife had enough of Buquet's belly aching and hired these gentlemen yesterday. I will take them to Buquet. You may continue your rounds."  
  
Nadir bowed in a way that revealed his Arabian heritage, "Of course, Monsieur Firmin."  
  
Nadir walked away continuing his round checking for intruders or possible illegal entrances to the opera. Monsieur Firmin smiled at the two new techs and motion that they follow him. The two did so silently while Monsieur Firmin chatted continuously about the play tonight. The taller one gave an amused smirk to his companion. His companion smiled back was they walked along the backstage. Buquet came to view as he furiously continued to bark out orders. Monsieur Firmin cleared his throat hoping to catch the man's attention.  
  
"Take a cough drop, Firmin, if your throat is bothering you." Buquet snapped as he watched his crew work on the stage.  
  
"I have two new swing shifts for you to boss around." Firmin snapped back.  
  
Buquet turned around and looked over the two men, "Not bad. What are your names?"  
  
The taller one spoke up, "I'm Royce and this is Gaspar. He don't talk much. Does good work with the ropes."  
  
Buquet consider this information before speaking, "Really? You two obviously have worked together before. We work in pairs here. So I'll keep you together. We need more people on the stage level with the ropes and curtains. You will part of the stage left team with Krissi and Shawn. They will tell you what to do. Rehearsal is in ten minutes. Any questions?"  
  
Royce shook his head and Buquet nodded his approval before shouting, "Krissi! Shawn! Get over here!"  
  
The two in question ran up and snapped into a salute, "Aye, aye, Captain Queeg!"  
  
Buquet buried his head into the palm of his hand to hide his smile, "Show the newbies the ropes."  
  
"Aye, aye Captain."  
  
The two newbies stifled a laugh when they glanced at Buquet's frustrated face.  
  
*******************888888888888888888888888*****************************  
  
Erika left the rehearsal hall later that day. Her body ached but it was a good ache. As she moved towards her dressing room, she didn't notice the figure stalking her moves. Erika slipped into her dressing room. After she shut the door, someone grabbed her and covered her mouth. She struggled against her attacker until he spoke.  
  
"Mademoiselle Noir, I'm not here to harm you." Moriarty whispered, "We need to talk."  
  
Erika relaxed against him and nodded. Yes, they needed to talk. Moriarty removed his hands when she had completely relaxed. Erika made to motion to move from her position. Moriarty closed his eyes and gently cursed at Fate. She belonged to the Phantom and therefore beyond his reach. Eventually Erika moved away and motion that he take a seat. Moriarty moved to the cot in the corner while Erika sat at the vanity.  
  
Erika spoke first, "You wanted to talk?"  
  
"Apologize, really, for last night." Moriarty stated firmly.  
  
"Do you regret what happened?" Erika asked gently as she played with the make up tins.  
  
Moriarty remained silent as he thought about what to say. After a moment, he answered, "No, I don't. I would do it again if I could."  
  
Erika looked at him through the mirror. Her expression was masked when she questioned his apology, "Then why apologizes if the action wasn't regretted?"  
  
"Because it wasn't right. You are bound to another. I had no right as a gentleman to do what I did."  
  
"Yet you still did it." Erika grinned to herself amused, "In your thinking about that kiss, did you ever wonder about my reaction? I will assure you that I do not regret your actions, Professor."  
  
"What are you saying, mademoiselle?"  
  
"Apology is not accepted." Erika remarked as she stood up and walked to the mirror, "It was a kiss that I gave freely and will keep close to my heart until the day I die."  
  
Moriarty stood as well as she walked over by him. He was surprised by her answer. Her eyes were amused by his reaction as she checked her costumes for the performance. Moriarty opened his mouth to speak only to find her lips kissing his. Before he could fully react, she was gone from the dressing room. Moriarty walked to the door to find that she had disappeared once again. A swishing sound was heard behind him. Moriarty turned to see The Phantom standing by the mirror.  
  
"So we meet at last, Professor." The Phantom smiled.  
  
"Indeed we do." Moriarty smiled as he shut the door, "I have been trying to find you, Monsieur Phantom."  
  
"So I saw. Erika was worried that you would spring one my many traps when you chased us last night."  
  
"Where did she go?"  
  
"She is safe right now. They have been too many eyes on her for her to remain safe for long. I must thank you for protecting her so far."  
  
"I can honestly say it was my pleasure. May I make a request?"  
  
"I will not join you, Professor, not while the Count lives free." The Phantom smiled at Moriarty's shocked look, "It's your purpose in being here."  
  
"It seems the rumors don't do you credit."  
  
"They rarely do. Be careful with Erika, Professor, I will not tolerate her becoming a pawn in this game of wits."  
  
"Are you threatening me away from her?"  
  
"No. Merely giving out some good advice." The Phantom smirked as he dropped two black balls. A moment passed until a thick smoke flowed out of them. As Moriarty's vision became obscured by the smoke, the Phantom called out, "Until we meet again, Professor."  
  
Moriarty stumbled out of the smoky dressing room, trying to catch his breath. He looked up to see a cloaked figure running away. Shaking his head, Moriarty decided to chase down the Phantom. He hurried after the retreating form.  
  
***************88888888888888888888888888*******************************  
  
MW: Sorry it's shorter than usual but Writer's block has smacked me up side the head. I'll make up for it next week. I promise. Nightmare has a few things to say too. Come on out, Mare.  
  
Nightmare walks out and points her bow and arrow at the readers: Okay, I'm currently under order to 'persuade' people to review not only this story but Jaka Ray's stuff as well. I can't believe I'm going to say this title but, the boss is threatening to put me in pink, so the story is Ruby Roo Reats Rarerock Roams. So hit this review button, then go over and hits that one. If everyone cooperates, you'll get to sleep peacefully tonight. Got it? 


	12. Chapter 12

Myshawolf walks out with a notebook. Nightmare is right behind her.  
  
MW: Another chapter is up. We are hitting the end of this little adventure.  
  
Nightmare: Good. Maybe you can concentrate on Atlantis like your beta wants you to.  
  
MW: *smiles* Eventually. Hey Northstar, if Auron gives you too hard of a time. We can introduce him to Nightmare. Jaka, I'm working on a present for you. It should be ready by the next chapter. Iara, I'm glad someone like The Erika/Moriarty thing. I can't think of any thing else.  
  
Nightmare: Good. Now you got graduate work to do, young lady. That research paper isn't going to type itself.  
  
MW as she being dragged away: On with the Show.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 12- Masks Off  
  
Erika hurriedly got dressed in her dressing room. Star North watched her with a smile. Eventually she got Erika to sit still long enough to do her make up. Erika closed her eyes as Star streaked the powder across her cheeks. Madame Giry walked in. she was dressed in black in order to make her harder to see off stage.  
  
"Are you nervous, Erika?" Madame Giry asked.  
  
"Very." Erika admitted as she opened her eyes, "It feels like this the final act."  
  
"In a sense it is. The Count has refused to attend because you are singing." Madame Giry informed her.  
  
"Good riddance to bad rubbish." Star stated as she put the finishing touches on Erika's make up, "Now I will be waiting stage right of the wings to touch up your make up. Now I have to hurry before Auron comes looking for me."  
  
Madame Giry snorted, "That slave driver? I thought he was ordered to back off."  
  
Star shrugged as she packed up her supplies, "Like that ever stops him. Got to run. Break a leg, Erika."  
  
"Bye Star." Both ladies said with a smile.  
  
Nadir and Danesh entered the dressing room. Danesh presented Erika with a bouquet of fresh daisies and carnation. Erika smiled as she accepted them and gave a kiss on each cheek.  
  
"Merci." Erika sighed as she took in their scent.  
  
"Anything for our little sister. Good luck tonight." Danesh smiled as he hugged her.  
  
"Your father would be proud of you, Noir." Nadir smiled.  
  
"Your whole family line would be proud of you." Madame Giry beamed proudly then began to usher everyone out, "Let give her a moment alone. I will be back in five minutes for curtain."  
  
"Oui, Madame Giry." Erika giggled as she went back to getting dressed. Gently, she put on her hoop earrings. As she fixed her hair with a hair scarf, one of the younger stage hands walked in with a small bouquet of red and white roses. Erika walked up to take them. She looked at the stage hand questioningly, "Where did these come from?"  
  
"I don't know, mademoiselle. I was handed them by a tall man who was by the backstage area." The stage hand reported.  
  
"Was he exceedingly polite and have a British accent?"  
  
"Oui."  
  
"So back for me and tell him thank you for the roses. I owe him another kiss. And if he wants to come back here let him."  
  
"Oui, mademoiselle." The stage hand remarked as he left the dressing room, "Excuse me, Gaspar, Royce."  
  
Erika watched as the two new stage hands walked into her dressing room. Gaspar closed the door. Erika watched amused as the two removed their hats and fake mustaches to reveal their true identity.  
  
"Detectives!" Erika exclaimed happy to see them, "You didn't need disguises to come back stage. I'm sure Nadir would have let you in."  
  
"He almost didn't this morning." Lestrade gripped.  
  
"We are incognito, Mademoiselle Noir, because I think someone is going to try a sabotage the play tonight with a strong possibility of harming you in the process." Holmes stated strongly.  
  
"Do you know whom?" Erika asked with a smile.  
  
"I have a strong suspicion. Can you tell us what really happened to Christine Daae-Noir? That is the only piece that I'm missing to the puzzle."  
  
"Perhaps some other time soon. Tonight is not a night to bring up the past." Erika promised, "You better hurry. Buquet likes having his people in place at least fifteen minutes ahead of time."  
  
The two replaced their masks and walked towards the door. Holmes stopped and turned around, "Tell me, Mademoiselle Noir, how close is Moriarty to the truth?"  
  
Erika smiled sadly, "Closer than even he knows just as are you. Until after the lime light, Monsieur Royce."  
  
The two detectives left the dressing room. Erika sat her vanity. She closed her eyes and folded her hands. Silently she prayed to God and her father for strength as she performed on the same stage as her ancestors. A familiar, yet dangerous presence woke her out of her reverie.  
  
Erika flung herself to the floor as the gunshot rung out. Several bottles on her dresser shattered. Erika rolled away and ducked into the alcove that hid her cot. She heard several shouts and the sound of retreating footsteps. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down her beating heart. That was close. A voice reached her ears that caused her heart to race again.  
  
"Mademoiselle Noir, are you all right?" Moriarty asked as he walked into her dressing room. The broken glass crunched under his shoes.  
  
Erika opened her eyes to stare into his gray ones. She noticed that he was wearing an elastomask. Erika nodded as she let go of the breath she had been holding in. He was about to say more when Royce cleared his throat. The two looked at him. Royce quirked an eyebrow and Moriarty realized that Royce was Sherlock. He stood up and Helped Mademoiselle Noir up as well.  
  
"Did you see your attacker, Mademoiselle Noir?" Royce asked. Gaspar stood by the door of the dressing room as if to stand guard. Moriarty smirked, Lestrade really needed to hide her stance a little bit better.  
  
"No, Monsieur Royce, I was saying a prayer and had my eyes closed. It was a good thing I fell from my chair when I did."  
  
Royce nodded and addressed the stranger, "Did you see anything, monsieur?"  
  
"Unfortunately, I didn't. I was just clearing the crowd when I heard the shot."  
  
Nadir raced up to the room and stated, "We lost him. There is no time to search the Opera House to be sure he is gone. I will advise the managers to postpone tonight's performance."  
  
"No, Khan. That is what my attacker wants. I'm fine and can perform just as well." Erika protested.  
  
"We can't protect you when you are on the stage." Nadir pointed out.  
  
"I will not hid or run away anymore Khan. I've done that for far too long. I will take a stand tonight."  
  
"As you wish. Please be careful my friend."  
  
"I will. I have no intention of dying any time soon."  
  
Nadir gave a little bow and reminded Erika, "I will suggest that we delay curtain time until we can to be sure that he is no longer back stage."  
  
"Of course." Erika smiled as the small group of rescuers left her room. Royce gave a long look at the stranger before leaving the room. Erika sighed as she turned to her visitor. She whispered, "Its pleasure to see you again, Professor. But you shouldn't have come."  
  
"I thought we stopped Moran's attempts on your life."  
  
"You did. Now the one who paid him is taking matters into his own hands. Don't worry for me. I can take care of myself."  
  
"So I have seen. I came to wish you luck, Mademoiselle Noir. I look forward to watching your performance tonight."  
  
Erika smiled brightly, "Thank you for your kind words, Professor. Your flowers are beautiful."  
  
"I will go now, Mademoiselle and take my seat." Moriarty excused himself as he kissed her hand, "Au revoir, Erika."  
  
Erika smiled even wider, "Au revoir, James."  
  
Moriarty smiled to himself as he walked away for the dressing room. There was a definite spring in his step as he approached the flies.  
  
The best place to watch a play isn't from the front row or the balcony. It is from the backstage watching not only the magic of the actors transforming into their characters but watching the stage crew working together to make the story work through the changing of the sets. One can see the actors behind a closed curtain take their spots and wait for their cue.  
  
It's easy to share the quiver of excitement that hums in the air when the orchestra hits the final bars of the overture and the curtain opens revealing the beautiful structure of Notre Dame. A young man steps forward dressed in the clothes of minstrel. He sings about the eternal present of the great stone cathedral and the new threat of infidels to Paris. His voice rose and sunk with each word as it should. When he finished, Royce noticed that he didn't wear a microphone or any equipment to help project his voice. He turned to ask Gaspar about this.  
  
"I'm not sure why." Gaspar answered.  
  
Nadir walked over to them and after Royce repeated his question, Nadir smiled, 'That is simple. This theater was built for acoustics, A singer doesn't need a microphone because he can project fine already with the design of the theater. Plus like the old fashion limes, the company wanted everything to remain as authentic as possible to when the theater originally opened."  
  
Royce nodded and turned back to the stage area. The stage was in semi darkness as the lightening crew began to start up a new lime light. As the music swelled the light began to get brighter. Soon a beautiful voice began to sing softly as she describe the forces that have guided her life. At the key change, Erika burst in the glowing limelight, dressed in colorful gypsy clothing as she became Esmeralda the gypsy girl. The whole theater became deathly quiet as she sang in bright and clear voice about her life and how she came to Paris. Around her sat the chorus dressed as refugees and fellow gypsies.  
  
Gaspar looked around backstage to see that everyone stopped to watch her sing and dance. When the song ended, Esmeralda waited for the next song to begin. The audience soon was applauding very loudly as did everyone backstage. Soon the orchestra to play, quieting everyone down. The back stage crew continued to work. Erika and the new play, Notre Dame de Paris, were going to be an arousing success.  
  
Moriarty enjoyed the show from his position high up in the rafters. He watched the rehearsal for places the stage crew didn't go. He noticed that they didn't go too high for the stage. He watched Erika perform her best. Once or twice she would look up at him during time off stage. He had the best view in the house. He was far enough away to be hidden but yet he could still see. Next to him, Fenwick was keeping an eye out for any possible intruders. He could sense that Fenwick wanted to question him about why they were watching Erika, instead of searching for the Phantom. Ever so often, Moriarty would glare at his lackey, silencing him every time.  
  
He refocused on the drama that unfolded below him. It was the final scene as Esmeralda awaits her death. Erika was playing the gypsy girl quite well. She seemed so alone as she pleads for one last night to be with the one she loves and to finally be free. Moriarty closed his eyes as her voice reached his ears.  
  
A million stars light  
  
This beautiful night  
  
This is not a night to die  
  
Let me sing and dance  
  
Beneath the sky  
  
I have such love to give  
  
To give  
  
I want a chance to live  
  
Erika turned her bright blue eyes to the audience. They are her judge and jury. With a grace that hadn't been seen since the days of Christine Daae, she moved up stage as she sang her final aria.  
  
Live  
  
For the one I love  
  
Love  
  
As no one has loved  
  
Give  
  
Asking nothing in return  
  
Royce watched her transfixed as he had when he first heard Christine Daae. It was like the past was coming to life and trying to live again. He reached for Gaspar's hand, understanding the message of the song.  
  
Free  
  
Free to find my way  
  
Free to have my say  
  
Free to see the day  
  
Gaspar gripped Royce's hand as she watched Erika sing. There were tears in her eyes. She wanted to help the poor gypsy girl who was condemned to die because she loved the wrong man.  
  
Be  
  
Like I used to be  
  
Like a wild bird free  
  
With all of life in me  
  
Erika turned away from the audience in shame that she would be begging for their mercy. She turned her eyes to the unseen stars and sang to them.  
  
Live  
  
For the one I love  
  
Love  
  
As no one has loved  
  
Give  
  
Asking nothing in return  
  
A cloaked figure walked on to the stage. Priest robes could be seen under the cloak. It seemed Claude Frollo was making one last visit to the gypsy to make his final offer: love him or die. Erika didn't see him as she makes her final wish to the stars  
  
Though this world tears us apart  
  
We're still together in my heart  
  
I want the world to hear my cry  
  
And even if I have to die  
  
Love will not die  
  
Love will change the world  
  
"This isn't part of the play." Royce heard Shawn whispered to Krissi.  
  
"Go get Nadir." Krissi hissed back. Shawn nodded as he ran to find the head of security. Royce pulled out his cane, ready to fight if the need arose.  
  
Live  
  
For the one I love  
  
Love  
  
As no one has loved  
  
Give  
  
Asking nothing in return  
  
I'll love until love wears me away  
  
I'll die and I know my love will stay  
  
And I know I know my love will stay  
  
Erika turned towards the cloaked figure. As she turned, the figure pulled out an old fashioned gun and fired a shot. Erika felt the bullet hit her shoulder. She collapsed to the ground. Red blood began to stain her white shift.  
  
The figure moved towards her. Moriarty began to race towards the stairs Fenwick was hot on his heels. Royce and Gaspar ran out on to the stage, shedding their disguise as they went. Gaspar/Lestrade pulled out her ionizer and took aim at the intruder.  
  
"Stop!" Royce/Holmes shouted, "And show yourself."  
  
The figure turned and pulled down his hood to reveal the Phantom. A gasp came over the audience. The Phantom grinned evilly at Holmes. His brown eyes gleamed with triumph.  
  
"I thought The Phantom was Erika's friend." Lestrade asked Holmes, not taking her eyes off the masked man.  
  
"He is. This is a fake. The real Phantom has blue eyes. In fact the exact same shade as Mademoiselle Noir." Holmes stated matter of factly.  
  
"Very clever Monsieur Holmes." The fake Phantom smiled, "Too bad you are too late to stop me. I have completed my real mission. The Phantom is dead."  
  
"Are you so sure?" The Phantom's voice asked.  
  
The Faker's face dropped at the sound of the voice. He turned to see Erika Noir standing up. Her right hand covering her wound on her left shoulder. Her blue eye literally glowed with a dark emotion that was beyond hate. Holmes noticed her aura and presence was very different from what he had seen from her, yet it was very close to the Phantom's stance.  
  
Erika flicked her brown hair over her shoulder. Slowly she approached her attacker. Moriarty froze half way down the stairs. He heard The Phantom also, yet wasn't sure where he was. He watched concerned as Erika walked up to her attacker. She opened her mouth to sing only to hear a different voice come out the Phantom's voice.  
  
Erika smiled hatefully as she moved. She stopped a few feet away. Her attacker was in shock that she was still alive. Erika sang in The Phantom's voice to her attacker.  
  
Say you'll share with me One love one lifetime Lead me, save me From my solitude. Say you want me Here beside you.  
  
Erika gripped the mask and ripped it off the fake Phantom's face. Ruelle, The Count de Chagny glared at her with pure hate. Erika moved away holding the white mask. In a symbolic move that revealed more than any words, she placed it up to her face.  
  
Anywhere you go Let me go too. My enemy, that's All I ask of you.  
  
The Count growled darkly. He aimed his gun again at her. Erika dove for him. The gun went off. Erika felt the bullet graze her face as she tackled the Count. A trap door opened magically behind them and the two fell from sight. The trap door swung shut, swallowing the two mortal enemies into the Underworld night, possibly never to be seen again.  
  
Thunder walks out, munching on an apple: Review ladies and gentleman or Nightmare will be paying people a visit. Also Please check out Jaka Ray's stories and setting. She writes some interesting things. 


	13. Chapter 13

Myshawolf walks out with a grinning Nightmare.  
  
Myshawolf: Hello, everyone. Welcome to Chapter 13. Things are going to get interesting.  
  
Nightmare: If you ask me they already are. I'm thinking of visiting North Star for a bit.  
  
Myshawolf: You do that and Auron will have an anxiety attack.  
  
Nightmare: North Star won't mind.  
  
MW: I think she will besides don't you have something for Jaka.  
  
Nightmare: Oh yeah. Since she wants a thing to argue with like me, I'm going to give her (pulls a small ball of black mist) this.  
  
MW: Okay, what is it?  
  
Nightmare: It's a shadow demon that will take the shape of what she wants. And yes, it is a smart aleck. For you Jaka. (Tosses it to Jaka in the audience) Now to go visit North Star and Auron. (leaves)  
  
MW: Poor Auron. He just had to show that he is afraid of her. Oh well, on with the show.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 13- To The Very Depths of Hell.  
  
The whole Opera House was in shock at the events that unfolded on stage. Suddenly the curtain closed and the backstage went into panic. Sherlock and Lestrade walked over to approach Nadir who was trying to restore some calm to the chorus. Several girls were weeping.  
  
"Please Mademoiselles you must return to your dressing rooms." Nadir barked at them causing several to cry harder. Madame Giry rushed over and ushered the girls away as the detectives reached him.  
  
"Where did they go?" Holmes asked sternly.  
  
Nadir ran a hand through his hair, "I didn't think she was that stupid."  
  
"Where is she, Khan?" Lestrade barked. Her voice tinged with worry.  
  
"God damn it. Why didn't she tell me what she was planning? You two better hurry." Nadir shouted.  
  
"Where, Nadir?"  
  
Nadir glared at Holmes, "You were snooping around, Monsieur Holmes. I'm sure you should know where to go. Hurry, you may be able to save her or him, depending what side you are on."  
  
Holmes nodded, "Five cellars down?"  
  
"Yes. Have your hands at the level of your eyes." Nadir insisted as he walked them over to the stair well, "Good luck."  
  
Lestrade asked gently as they opened the door to the cellars, "Why are you not coming with us?"  
  
"I'm needed here. Hurry." Nadir stated quickly as he closed the door behind them. Holmes gripped Lestrade's hand. Together, they descended into the darkness.  
  
Moriarty hurried down the stairs as fast as he could. Erika was in danger. This single thought made his feet move faster. Finally, he jumped the railing as soon as he was close to the stage. Landing silently he pushed through the crowd to the trap door. He could see Erika's blood smeared on the stage. His stomach turned at the thought Erika hurt, possible dying if that second shot hit her in the chest. Soon he came to the trapdoor. On his hands and knees he looked for a trigger. He wasn't paying attention when the trapdoor swung open. Before any one could stop him, he rolled into the darkness.  
  
Moriarty landed with a soft thud. The light from the stage cut through the dark tunnel. Moriarty spotted a trail of blood in front of him. He looked up to see Fenwick looking over the edge. Fenwick looked away every so often to keep a look out.  
  
"Are you going after the girl, master?" Fenwick asked.  
  
Moriarty answered with out hesitation, "Yes, could you throw me a luminator?"  
  
Fenwick fidgeted in his spot, "You love her, no?"  
  
Moriarty wondered what that had to do with anything but replied, "When did you get nosy?"  
  
"I made you. I have an interest in what you do." Fenwick snapped in very uncharacteristic way before jumping in.  
  
"Fatherly concern from you? It's a little late for that." Moriarty snorted as he held his hand out for the luminator.  
  
"You were more agreeable as a child." Fenwick growled as he placed the light in his hand, "Just remember you loved a girl before and she treated you like dirt."  
  
Moriarty smiled, "Erika is not Inspector Lestrade, Fenwick. She is more complex."  
  
Fenwick shook his head, "Just don't get killed. I don't want to go through raising another one of you. Get going and find your Phantom."  
  
Moriarty grinned widely as he bowed to his lackey and ran into the darkness. Fenwick watched him go and shook his head. Kids were so reckless. He looked up and was about to climb out when Madame Giry held out her hand to help him up.  
  
"Trust me, Monsieur, I don't bite." Madame Giry smiled.  
  
Fenwick thought for a moment before accepting the help up. He soon found himself surrounded with the worried faces of the Opera Company. Fenwick sighed as he began to describe what he saw down in the abyss.  
  
Sherlock and Lestrade struggled along the darkened corridors. Soon they reached the fifth cellar. Lestrade gaped at the clear lake in front of them. Sherlock smiled like he had expected it the whole time. Bobbing in the water was a shabby looking boat. Sherlock gripped Lestrade's hand and moved towards the boat. Looking inside, he spotted a pole used for steering and two cloaks. Holmes picked one up and wrapped it around Lestrade.  
  
"I can dress myself, Holmes." Lestrade stated firmly as she reached up to fasten it. Holmes grinned as he she batted his hands away.  
  
"I want to make you aware of one thing, my dear Lestrade." Holmes remarked as she finished up, "We may not make it out of there alive."  
  
"Erika won't hurt us." Lestrade commented confidently.  
  
"That is assuming she is still alive." Holmes pointed out, "The Count was armed and not injured in any way while Erika was shot. I want you to be prepared for the worst."  
  
"She has to okay." Lestrade insisted, "She is the first person to understand me because as Nadir said we are alike. We both have been running from our past."  
  
"Erika has stopped running and so have you. It's time we take a stand against this insanity together." Holmes whispered as he hugged Lestrade. In his mind he realized that he wasn't acting normally, but then again this wasn't a normal case.  
  
"If we survive, I want to tell you why I left Texas and never went home again."  
  
"I want to hear it. Now let's go."  
  
Sherlock helped Lestrade into the boat. He pushed off and they drifted forward into the swirling fog that began to form over the lake. They cut through the fog in silence as if their voice would trigger any traps or alert their quarry to their presence. Lestrade felt the cold nip at her fingers and face. Repressing a shiver, she wrapped the wool cloak tighter around her. She looked up at Holmes to see if he was cold.  
  
Holmes stared straight ahead as he steered the boat. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he tried to recall the way to go. Soon he banked to the right. Lestrade looked back out over the murky water. Soon a glimmer of light caught her eyes. The glimmer grew bigger and bigger to reveal a lumme torch. It was followed by another and another. The torches soon lead to a beautiful old house. Lestrade gasped as she looked over the old structure. Holmes docked the boat and the two stood in shock of the old house.  
  
"How long has this been here?" Lestrade stammered.  
  
"Since 1875 when The Opera House was built. The Original Phantom, Erik Noir, was an assistant to Charles Garnier. He supervised the building of The Opera House especially the underground lake. I suspect that Erik decided to build himself a home hidden from the world who hated him." Holmes stated, "Garnier may have had an ego but he kept such excellent notes about one of his greatest achievements. Shall we knock on the door?"  
  
Lestrade nodded as she walked forward. Raising her fist, she went to knock on the door. Sherlock gripped her wrist tightly, stopping it from hitting the door. Lestrade looked at him questioningly. She saw the statement in his eyes and lowered her hand. Of course the Phantom's home would be booby- trapped. Sherlock pulled out a case that held his lock picks. He knelt down and began to unlock the door. Soon the lock clicked. Lestrade smiled as he pushed open the door and walked in first. Lestrade stepped in behind him.  
  
The Entrance room was beautifully decorated with several painting and furniture. By the door was a coat rack. Above hung a sign carved in black walnut that read, Please hang our cloaks here. Lestrade found the room to be quite warm and shrugged out of her cloak. Holmes carefully inspected the room with his magnifying glass. Lestrade looked around for a place to put her cloak. Spotting a chair in the corner of the room, she walked over and gently laid the cloak down. The coat rack was obviously a trigger to a trap. Sherlock looked up as Lestrade put the cloak down, something wasn't right. Why was there even a chair in the entrance room anyways? Suddenly it dawned on him.  
  
"Lestrade, don't!" Holmes shouted as he ran over.  
  
Lestrade set the cloak down and looked at Holmes curiously. Then, she heard the click and the sound of a heavy wheel turning. The floor beneath her shook. She felt Holmes grab her. The floor opened open and the two dropped down a tube together. Lestrade slide down the tube quickly. Behind her, she could feel Holmes sliding behind her just as fast.  
  
The tube opened up and Lestrade fell into a bright room. She rolled along the smooth wooden floor. Holmes rolled over next to her. Distantly she could arguing and gunshots. Erika, Lestrade thought as she sat up, was in danger. Holmes sat up as well and looked around. Lestrade did so as well. This room was very warm. Lestrade looked around to see that they were surrounded by mirrors. Above them sat a bright light. Lestrade stayed sitting while Sherlock investigated the room.  
  
"I have heard of such device being used by The Sultana of Persia to destroy her enemies back in my day." Holmes stated with great interest.  
  
"What does this room do?"  
  
"Notice how warm this room is. Well after spending a good and long amount of time in such constant heat with no respite, it starts to affect your mind and body. Heat stroke begins to set in and the mind begins to see things. Soon the victims die a long and agonizing death."  
  
"Is there a way out?"  
  
"I'm not to sure." Holmes admitted as he sat down next to Lestrade, "We may have to wait for either Erika or The Count to let us out."  
  
"While you were going through Garnier's memoirs, did find out what you want to know about the Count's lineage?  
  
"Yes and no. It seems the Noirs and de Chagnies have been fighting since the 1890's. Erik Noir was the original Phantom. He met and trained a beautiful singer named Christine Daae. Christine Daae disappeared from weeks at a time and when she returned she claimed to be with her Angel of Music. About this time, Raoul de Chagny was back in Paris and watched Christine Perform one night when she filled in for Carlotta Guidicelli. They were childhood friends and Raoul was excited to see his friend again. According to the papers a torrid love affair followed. I don't think it was that cut and dry." Holmes informed his partner as they sat and waited.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"Aristocrats are taught to be more discreet than how The Vicomte was acting. Even his own brother was having an affair at the time with the head dancer and no one knew. I think he may have loved the girl but he never had her alone. He may have tried to pursue her, but found her hard to catch because her teacher and possibly lover. Eventually everything came to a head when Christine Daae was kidnapped during a performance. The Vicomte and another man pursued her and rescued her from the Phantom." Holmes continued the tale, "Shortly after Christine and Raoul were married and had a child six months after the wedding. Then Raoul died during a horse riding accident. Christine stayed in The de Chagny home until her son took sick. Christine returned to Paris and The opera House. She refused to take any money from The Count de Chagny hid in the Opera House. Monsieur Firmin, the new manager, wrote in his memoirs that he thought Christine was afraid of The Count. When she returned she pale and had several bruises. She sang for money to help her son. I think she meet up with The Phantom despite rumors he was dead and married him like she wanted to. The newspaper thought it was a romantic story while the Count tried everything in his power to destroy her."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"No one knows for sure? She collapsed during a performance. The head of security for the Opera house, a Nadir Khan, and her new husband swept her away. In a week, she died. Two months later The Count de Chagny was found hanging high above the Opera's stage. Somehow, The Count was believed to be responsible for the diva's death, but non one could prove it."  
  
"And the two families have been fight ever since." Lestrade finished softly. Holmes nodded as he wiped some sweat away.  
  
"There are some missing pieces of course, like what really happened." Holmes smiled, "And when did Erika become the Phantom?"  
  
"Five years ago when her father died. The Count shot him because he was the Phantom." Lestrade realized suddenly.  
  
Holmes smiled wider, "That would make sense and fit the time scale."  
  
Suddenly, they heard a panel begin to shift. The two detectives jumped to their feet ready to fight. A mirror moved to the side to reveal an old fashioned Glock aimed at them. Holmes inched over the block Lestrade from the line of fire. Ruelle smiled maliciously at the twosome. His eyes gleamed with a bit of insanity.  
  
"Hello, Detectives. A pity you had to follow me." The Count greeted nastily. As he waved them through the door, "Please come in. Erika is sorry she can't greet you herself since she is dead."  
  
Moriarty soon reached the end of the blood trail, a wall. Somehow Erika must have gotten through. Quickly, he searched the wall for a trigger. Finally he noticed a worn stone. Desperate, he hit it. The walls emitted a growl as it moved to reveal a dark passage. Moriarty cautiously walked down it. The wall slid shut behind him.  
  
The hallway was very dark. Moriarty walked carefully and slowly looking for any traps. He heard a click and a noose fell around his raised hand which held the lumme and yanked up. Moriarty quickly slashed the rope with a knife he always carried with him. The Punjab Lasso, Moriarty smirked. Good thing he had his hand up. Shaking off the close encounter, he continued his trek which brought him closer to the Phantom's lair.  
  
Holmes and Lestrade glared at the Count as they slowly moved into the main house. Holmes noticed the room was full of musical instruments. Two Stradivarius violins caught his eye that stood on the mantle above a fireplace. One seemed very familiar to him. The Count noticed his gaze.  
  
"I see that you have spotted The Phantom's prize violins. I sure one is familiar to you since it once belonged to you. The other belonged to the original Phantom. He used it to seduce Christine Daae to follow him in to hell." The Count spat and then laughed, "But I finished the war. The Phantoms won't protect the Opera House again."  
  
"Where is Erika?" Lestrade asked venomously.  
  
The Count motioned to the next room, "In there. I wouldn't move over there or I may shoot you."  
  
"You are going to any ways." Holmes pointed out.  
  
The Count smiled hatefully, "Oh don't worry I will. It's just your partner owes me a little something from our last encounter."  
  
"Try it, pal!" Lestrade challenged loudly as she stepped out from behind Holmes. If she was going to go down she would do it fighting.  
  
"In good time, my dear." The Count sneered.  
  
Lestrade didn't say anything. She glanced at a tense Holmes. He nodded and they prepared to act on the impromptu plan. Sherlock tossed his concealed cane at The Count while Lestrade lunged for him. The Count was expecting them to attack since he side stepped the cane and grabbed Lestrade. He pressed the Glock against her head. Both detectives froze at the stand off.  
  
"Nice try, Monsieur Holmes." The count smiled, "Too bad it means I must eliminate you quicker."  
  
Holmes glared at the Count. His eyes caught a flicker of movement behind the Count and noticed that the door was open. Everyone froze in the room as they heard the safety on a gun click out of place.  
  
Erika's voice was tired as she moved up next to the Count singing softly, "Monsieur I bid you welcome. Did you think I'd let you harm her? Why should I make her pay for the sins which are yours?"  
  
"How can you still be alive?" The Count growled angrily, "I'll kill her."  
  
Erika smirked as he pushed the gun against the Count's temple, "Order your fine horse now! Raise your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now! Let her go!"  
  
"I'll shoot her."  
  
"And I'll shoot you Ruelle, not enough to kill you quickly. But a long painfully slow death." Erika laughed wildly, "Shooting has gotten so redundant in our long association. Maybe I'll inject with a deadly poison that would take weeks to kill you off and there is no cure for. Your ancestors were particularly found of that technique."  
  
"Why won't you die?" Ruelle growled as he realized he is lost.  
  
"Because I enjoy torturing you. Let the girl go. Now!" Erika ordered.  
  
Ruelle complied as he opened his arms and dropped the Glock. Lestrade stumbled away. Holmes moved to help support her. Erika removed her gun only to hit the back of the Count's head. Ruelle slid bonelessly to the ground out cold. Erika turned her tired eyes to her guest. Sherlock noticed her right leg was bleeding. She had changed her clothes into black pants and a white shirt. The suspenders were down and hung about. Sherlock could see her shoulder wound was still bleeding. Her cheek had a thin line of blood going across. It was a miracle that she was still standing.  
  
"Sorry if I am not being the most hospitably hostess you have met but I'm really tired right now." Erika sighed as she moved to a small cabinet off to the side.  
  
"That's understandable." Holmes nodded as Erika placed her gun on the piano in order to open the cabinet, "You need medical attention."  
  
"I'm going to hear that a lot tonight." Erika smiled softly as she pulled out two bottles and syringe, "Don't worry I haven't lost a lot of blood yet."  
  
"Erika, how did you survive?" Lestrade asked, "He was convinced you were dead."  
  
"I'm an actress, Inspector. My father taught me many tricks before he died since I would be inheriting his mask."  
  
"Like changing your voice?"  
  
Erika smiled with amusement, "My greatest skill that I learned yet. How long did you know Monsieur Holmes?"  
  
"After our meeting on the terrace when Lestrade was sick, your eyes are exactly alike."  
  
Erika made a small noise as she swallowed two pills. She put the bottle down and picked the syringe. After inspecting it, she picked up one of the vial and filled the syringe with a reddish liquid. Erika slowly walked over to the Count and stabbed him with the needle. He groaned as Erika injected the liquid into his blood stream. Erika grinned nastily as she pulled the needle out.  
  
"You are such a fool, Ruelle, to enter my world and think you can walk away unharmed. This will make you more cooperative." Erika stated firmly as she stood up, "You two are luck he didn't know that you can control the heat in the torture chamber. I have a feeling you want to arrest him and take him back."  
  
"That would be best." Holmes agreed carefully.  
  
"Forget it. He will not leave this place. Not after all the crimes he has committed."  
  
"You should let the police do their job." Lestrade reasoned.  
  
"Do you think he will really serve the appropriate time for his crimes, Inspector? He was freed after five years for murder. How long would he get for attempted murder? Two years? If that is you idea of justice, I want no part of it." Erika spat as she returned back for the other bottle.  
  
"What are you going to do with him?" Holmes asked.  
  
"I won't kill him. I want him to suffer for his crimes." Erika assured him gently, "But I can do a better job if you weren't here."  
  
Before either detective could move, Erika tossed the bottle at them. It broke at their feet, emitting a white gas. Sherlock and Lestrade tried escape the gas, but the fumes quickly over took them. As they collapsed, Sherlock saw Moriarty stepping into the room. Then the world went black. 


	14. Chapter 14

A handwritten note hangs up on the screen. It reads:  
  
Dear Readers, This chapter will be short due to the kidnapping of Myshawolf in response to her birthday being October 25th. We should hopefully have her back in time to post the next chapter if Present doesn't get us lost again. We suggest you enjoy and remember that Nightmare is in charge while Mysha is away. Thanks you and live it up!  
Sincerely,  
The Disclaimer Crew (see Bio for details.)  
  
Nightmare walks in: No one is here, huh? I guess I'll see Jaka and Monty are doing and met Haldir. On with the show. (evil laughter.)  
  
Masquerade  
  
Chapter 14- He had it coming!  
  
Slowly, the sounds of muffled voices reached Sherlock's ears. It started as a low buzz and gradually grew louder; Sherlock's mind began to play over the events before his world became black. Erika had knocked out the Count and then them. Sherlock was certain that she wasn't going to harm them. Or at least he was until he saw Moriarty walk through the door. If Erika had teamed up with Moriarty, why weren't they dead? At least Sherlock thought he was dead yet. There was only one way to find out. Sherlock gritted his teeth and opened his eyes.  
  
Moriarty stood in front of the mirror. While his eyes gazed at his reflection, they were trying to see beyond it down the tunnel to the Phantom's lair. At his feet was the lilac point cat Erika called Ayesha. She watched him with a worried look.  
  
Moriarty ignored the cat as he waited. Erika was down there possibly dying slowly and he couldn't help her. When he entered the room, he was expecting to see Erika and the Phantom with the Count begging for mercy. What he really saw surprised him.  
  
He could hear voices arguing when he stepped out of the secret passage way into a beautifully decorated bedroom. The bed was covered with satin sheets in red and black. He noticed the Victorian design of the room right down to the vanity and chairs. Moriarty was reminded of the various female dwellings he use to visit in his days and realized that this was Erika's room.  
  
His heart stopped when he saw a pool of blood and Erika's costume off to the side. His eyes noticed the bloody hand print by an open closet. Apparently Erika had changed her clothes after being shot possibly again. Moriarty turned to the open door. Erika's voice floated to him as she argued with Sherlock about what to do with the Count. He walked to the door.  
  
"But I can do a better if you weren't here." Erika spoke gently, and then he heard glass shatter. Moriarty walked to the door and watched as Sherlock and Lestrade collapse in a cloud of white smoke. Sherlock and he locked eyes as the detective passed out. He looked over to see Erika collapse against a piano in pain. Ayesha jumped to her owner's side.  
  
"I have to get them out of here, Ayesha." Erika groaned as she tried to stand up, "Get Nadir, he can take them to the surface."  
  
Moriarty watched as she began to cough in obvious pain. He was at her side in an instant holding her up. Erika looked at him over her shoulder in surprise.  
  
"Professor? How did you get here?" Erika questioned.  
  
"I followed your trail of blood. You need a doctor. Where is the Phantom?" Moriarty stated firmly.  
  
Erika smiled at him softly as she turned to him, "You are looking at her. Disappointed?"  
  
"I'd be lying if I said yes. In fact, this clears up several inner conflicts that I have been having." Moriarty smiled brightly as he pulled her close, "I'm taking you to a doctor."  
  
"No. I have to finish this." Erika remarked as she pulled away and leaned against the piano, "I have to stop all of this insanity."  
  
Moriarty watched her in silence. He noticed she had a few more wounds than he remembered. Around her neck hung the gold ring on a chain, it winked at him. Moriarty remembered the old accounts of The Phantom giving a plain gold band to his students to claim them as his. Moriarty reached for it. It was possibly her father's given to her as he was dying in her arms. A deathbed promise to be The Phantom.  
  
Moriarty dropped the ring and brushed her cheek. It was cold to his touch. Erika closed her eyes to the touch. A single tear rolled down her cheek and on to his hand. Moriarty pulled away. She would be The Phantom's first, which was her destiny.  
  
"Please, professor, could you take them to the surface and to safety? I can't do it. I'm too weak to." Erika asked.  
  
Moriarty looked at her. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand her allegiance in return, but she looked so fragile. Instead he said, "I will. I give my word as a gentleman."  
  
Erika smiled, "Thank you. Ayesha will show you a safe way back."  
  
Moriarty snapped out of his trance at Ayesha mewing. That was only an hour ago. Now he stood and waited for Erika to return or Holmes to wake up. Whichever happened first in this long night? Moriarty sighed and turned around to see Holmes watching him curiously. Moriarty sighed as he turned fully around to face his nemesis.  
  
"I promised her I wouldn't harm you or the Inspector." Moriarty said first.  
  
"Where is she?" Holmes asked as he sat up a little straighter, still alert for any danger.  
  
"Down there with him." Moriarty answered as he turned towards the mirror. Holmes noticed that for once his nemesis was worried. Moriarty stared at the mirror, not seeing his reflection, "She is injured badly."  
  
Holmes nodded as he observed Moriarty, "I know. Why did you bring us up?"  
  
"She asked me to. I couldn't refuse her. She didn't want anyone around while she deals with The Count de Chagny." Moriarty informed him.  
  
"What is she going to do?"  
  
"Kill him but I doubt it. She isn't a murderer, Holmes. I hope she succeeds in what ever she does." Moriarty grinned sadly, "I have been debating going down and helping her."  
  
"She won't be there. Not that everyone knows how to get there." Holmes pointed out.  
  
"I know. For now I suggest we have a truce." Moriarty suggested, "Until we know what happened to them."  
  
Holmes nodded until he felt someone move next to him. He looked over at a sleeping Lestrade. Holmes admired her for a moment. Gently he brushed a strand of loose hair from her face. Sherlock glanced behind him to see Moriarty standing near the mirror.  
  
Sherlock understood what his archenemy was feeling. It was hard to watch as someone who you respect put themselves at risk. When the Count threatened Lestrade, Holmes was never more scared or angry than anything in his life. Holmes gently brushed her cheek before leaving the cot they laid on. Holmes stretched his back as he stood up. Moriarty turned around to say something when an inhuman cry ripped through the Opera House. Both men paled before leaving the dressing room.  
  
Lestrade's eyes fluttered open. She looked around to find herself in Erika's dressing room. How did she get here? She swung her legs over the side of the bed to see Ayesha blink up at her. Lestrade smiled. Erika hadn't harmed them. She knew Erika wouldn't do it. The smile faded when Lestrade thought about the Count. What of him?  
  
Suddenly Lestrade noticed the mirror. A ripple passed over the glass. Lestrade blinked in shock. Glass didn't ripple. The mirror took on a liquid quality. Lestrade stood up and waited for her visitor to emerge.  
  
Nadir stepped through carrying a pale and unconscious Erika. Lestrade's heart stopped at the deathly pallor to Erika's olive skin. Nadir stared at Lestrade in surprise than smiled. He walked towards her.  
  
"At least it's you Inspector and not the Professor. I would have a fight on my hands then." Nadir said with such relief.  
  
"You mean Moriarty?" Lestrade asked.  
  
"Oui. Erika told me he brought you and Monsieur Holmes up here to safety. She told me he was stubborn about leaving her down there."  
  
"Is she?"  
  
"No. She has lost a lot of blood. I must hurry to save her, if I can." Nadir frowned.  
  
"And the Count?"  
  
"I think you should head to the stage area for that answer. Hurry."  
  
Lestrade headed for the open door. She took a quick look back at the two best friends before running to the stage area. Nadir smiled after the running lady. Oh yeah, The Inspector was a lot like Erika. He continued on his way.  
  
Lestrade heard shouting when she reached the edge of the stage. She spotted Holmes standing with Moriarty?! What was going on? Moriarty wore an amused expression as he commented to Holmes. Lestrade pulled out her ionser and tried to sneak up. Moriarty spotted her and commented to Holmes, "Your zealot awakes."  
  
Holmes turned and beckoned Lestrade to them, 'We have a truce for now my dear Lestrade. Come and see what Erika did."  
  
Lestrade stepped forward to see The Count running from an invisible enemy. His brown eyes were wide with a deep fear as he screamed at his foes to get away. Finally he curled himself up and began to babble to himself. Lestrade spotted her uncle command a team to capture him. Lestrade stepped forward to help. The Count saw her and shouted loudly.  
  
"The Phantom! He sent you didn't he? To take to my grave? He would send a vile woman to bring to him. I killed all his other pawns. His wife was my greatest victim, you know. I slowly poisoned her. He tried to save her. Him and his bastard daughter. I tried ruining her. The little bitch fought back. Nearly killed me so I shot her and The Phantom. But he came back. He always comes back. So I killed the little singer to get rid of him. It didn't work he kept coming back. He always comes back." The Count rambled as he stared at Lestrade with hollow empty brown eyes.  
  
Lestrade stepped back. Holmes put her arms around her to protect her from The Count's madness. The Count noticed this and jumped up his voice got higher as he talked.  
  
"Just like the all the bitches that fall for the Phantom. They are corrupted and tainted. I had to kill them to purge Paris of their filth. Christine Daae started it all. She could have loved The Count but chose the devil, even after Philippe killed her husband. She spurned him and the de Chagny name. He tried to love her, tried to show her. Yet she still followed his evil tune and gave herself to him. Gave her soul and blood to him. She had to pay. They all must pay." The Count shrieked at Lestrade and Holmes.  
  
Holmes noticed that several of the company watched in horror at the confession of a madman. He glanced at Moriarty to see to the suppressed rage in his eyes. The Count tried to ruin Erika. Granted he failed, but Moriarty didn't care. Holmes knew in that instant that Moriarty loved Erika Noir just as much as he loved the Inspector. He felt someone brush up next to him to see Frany and Krissi with a net. They looked at the two detectives.  
  
Frany spoke up first, "Monsieur Holmes, we are going to help subdue him. Will you help us? We need someone to distract him."  
  
Holmes smiled as he formed an idea, "Of course. But be careful. I may make him angrier."  
  
"We can take him, Monsieur Holmes. Have no fear."  
  
Holmes nodded and took a step towards the Count with Lestrade by his side. His blue eyes bore into the Count's face, holding the madman's attention. Holmes began to talk as the police and the company started to sneak up on the Count. Moriarty stood to the side ready to jump in if he was needed. The Count stared at Holmes captivated as Holmes began to piece together the past. He didn't react when ten people dog piled on top of him. Holmes stopped talking when Ayesha scampered across the stage leapt on top. Holmes turned to Lestrade when he noticed her sad gaze towards the dressing room. Nadir watched them for a moment. In his arms was Erika's limp form. He turned and left. Holmes pulled Lestrade close as she cried. He looked to Moriarty only to find that he had disappeared.  
  
The next day, Lestrade sat in the hover cab while Holmes checked them out. Her uncle was going to meet them at the shuttle station. Nadir refuse to discuss Erika's condition, but everything in his demeanor pointed that it wasn't good. The Count was locked up in an institution. Whatever Erika gave him, not even cryptonosis could reverse its affects. The Count was declared insane and will be locked up for a very long time.  
  
Lestrade sighed; her Paris adventure was over with. Soon she would back in New London and to her usual job. But what about her and Holmes? After this, could they continued on as normal. Their masks were gone and they saw how they felt for each other quite plainly. How could anyone ignore that? Lestrade jumped when Holmes sat next to her. He placed his arm around her as the cab took off. They both felt a sense of lost as they watched Nadir walk off with Erika's body. Soon they would be in New London and Paris would become nothing more than a memory,  
  
Lestrade stared out the window and spotted the Opera House in the distance. She squinted her eyes when she noticed a figure high on top of the Lyre. There was no black cloak but someone was up there. She craned her neck to keep it in sight until the opera House disappeared behind a set of buildings. She settled her head against Holmes shoulder. Maybe she was seeing things.  
  
At the Shuttle station, Leroux waited with the entire Opera Company. Buquet gave both of them a hug and asked that he be invited to their wedding. He promptly earned a smack upside the head from Madame Giry who hugged Lestrade good bye. Frany blushed as she hugged them good bye while Krissi and Shawn proceed to tell them that The Company was coming to New London. Star North waved to tell while ignoring Auron who was telling all the things that needed to get done. Areku and Iara promised to visit when they came to New London. Holmes told them that he knew some people who could show them around. They waved goodbye as they boarded the shuttle for home. A pair of blue eyes watched them leave sadly for her seat in the back.  
  
"Au revoir, Detectives. We will meet again." The owner smiled as her escort wheeled her away.  
  
A note from Mysha: I'll be back hopefully next week with the Epilogue. One question: Should Erika join Moriarty or should she stay neutral? 


	15. Epilogue

Myshawolf walks out in an 80's outfit with a pillow case of candy thrown over her shoulder: Trick or treat. Smell my feet. Give me something good to eat. If you don't I don't care. I'll pull down your underwear.  
  
Nightmare walks out munching on some candy: Where the hell did you learn that?  
  
MW: My sister. I love Halloween.  
  
Nightmare: I do too. There is some much fear in the air. It's wonderful. Speaking of which I have to visit Auron again.  
  
MW: Haven't you done enough damage?  
  
Nightmare: Nope. How is Monty working out with Jaka?  
  
MW: Pretty good I guess. Oh Reviewers! Hi, Nightmare and I are winding down from Halloween. Here is the last chapter of Masquerade. Please read the note at the end. I would love some feed back. The song is from the play Victor/ Victoria. Anything else?  
  
Nightmare: Not that I can think of. Except you need to be flattered that you have inspired North Star.  
  
MW: This is true. I can't wait to read her new stuff.  
  
Nightmare: Me neither. Anyways, on with the show.  
  
Masquerade  
  
Epilogue- Almost a love Song  
  
Lestrade slid behind the crate hoping it would provide some cover. She glanced over to see Holmes crouching down behind one as well. It seems some one tipped off Moriarty that they were coming. Lestrade stared at Holmes until she caught his eye. They nodded to each other. Lestrade knelt up and began to fire at their attackers.  
  
Holmes took at advantage of the cover and left the safety of his crate. He needed to reach the power box and cut power to the warehouse. Back up would be arriving in moments. He and the inspector needed to survive until then. His body jerked when ionser blast grazed his arm. He stumbled for a bit but kept running. Holmes reached the circuit box to realize something very startling.  
  
There was no more ionser blast. The warehouse was silent except for a scream. Lestrade heard it too. She was standing and trying to see what happened. Holmes stepped away from the box and toward the bad guys hiding spot. A smile touched his lips to see them either tied up or knocked unconscious. A small gleam caught his eye and stepped towards it. Lestrade was reading them their rights when he saw the white half mask sitting on a crate with a red rose lying next to it.  
  
"My dear Lestrade, take a look at this." Holmes called to his partner. Lestrade walked over and gasped.  
  
"That's Erika's mask." Lestrade stated, "Does this mean she.?"  
  
Suddenly Watson burst in with the needed back up. They noticed that they really weren't needed. Watson was about to say something when an annoying beeping was heard. Watson blushed and checked his comm link.  
  
"Oh dear, Holmes someone has set off the alarm at 221b Baker Street." Watson remarked, "I do believe someone has broken in."  
  
Lestrade and Holmes glanced at each other and stated, "Moriarty."  
  
They ran for the door. Watson followed on their heels. No one noticed that the mask was now gone. Only the red rose remained.  
  
What we have here  
  
Is almost a love song  
  
I'm prefect for you  
  
You're prefect for me.  
  
Everything they sing about  
  
We have in profusion  
  
The same sense of humor  
  
A romance more than  
  
Mere illusion  
  
So why are we  
  
Almost a love song  
  
Why aren't we  
  
The song of the year  
  
Does the moment go by  
  
Are we frighten to try  
  
Fenwick hurried through the Underground. Ahead Moriarty strode confidently and slowly. Fenwick was worried about his creation. Ever since they left Paris, His master seemed to be sulking about. Moriarty wasn't eating or reading. He would sit around staring into space. Fenwick knew what was wrong. It was a Cherie named Erika Noir.  
  
Fenwick sighed. He was once in the same boat as Moriarty. It's hard to forget someone who touches your life. While Moriarty never acknowledged that he liked the singer, Fenwick could tell he did. Too bad, they will never be together. She didn't fit in their world of crime. Moriarty seemed to acknowledge that after the incident in the Opera. Such was life.  
  
Fenwick trudged on. He didn't notice a shadowy figure was following him. The figure whispered something into a communicator before continuing on.  
  
If we are more the pity  
  
Oh, the idea seems so pretty.  
  
To be almost a love song  
  
You owe me a love song  
  
So where is my love song,  
  
My dear?  
  
One thing is clear  
  
We're almost a love song  
  
He's so good for me  
  
I'm no good for him.  
  
I saw somebody  
  
Who'd look at things my way  
  
We'd travel life's highway.  
  
Whatever the weather.  
  
I wonder whether  
  
The two of us should be together  
  
Lestrade drew her ionser as she and Holmes approached the open door. Watson hung back to watch for any escape attempt by the burglar. He noticed a beautiful woman dressed in black watching the apartment with interest. She stood by a hover car, waiting. Watson looked to where her eyes were focused.  
  
Lestrade looked around the apartment for anything out of place. A soft mewing caught her ears. She looked towards the couch. Laying on it was a lilac point Siamese cat. Lestrade holstered her ionser.  
  
"Seems like a false alarm Holmes. It's only a cat." Lestrade stated as she reached for the animal. Holmes turned and studied the creature before realization hit him.  
  
"Beth, didn't the Phantom own a cat very similar to them?" Holmes asked.  
  
Beth furrowed her brow as she looked at the cat. She wasn't surprised by Sherlock's use of her Christian name. In fact, he used it quite a lot since their return from Paris, in private of course. The cat began to purr bringing Lestrade out of her thoughts.  
  
"Ayesha, is that you?" Lestrade asked.  
  
Ayesha purred louder at the sound of her name. Then Ayesha leaped from Lestrade's arm and wound herself around Holmes' legs before leaping up to the mantle over the fireplace and a large package. An envelope faced the two detectives. In a neat and flowing handwriting were their names. Lestrade touched Holmes' arm, afraid of what was in the envelope. Holmes placed his arm around her waist as he reached for the letter.  
  
As he picked it up, he could tell that it carried two small objects in it. Carefully he tore open the top and pulled out a letter. He read the letter twice. A smile touched his lips as he handed it the letter to Beth. Beth grabbed the letter from him and read it quickly. She let a cry of relief and hugged Holmes.  
  
"She is alive. Erika is okay." Lestrade wept happily.  
  
Holmes smiled as he tipped over the envelope. Lestrade heard the click of two pierces of metal hitting each other. She looked to see two gold rings gleaming on the table. Holmes picked one up and slid it on to Lestrade right ring finger. Beth looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Erika gave these as a show of friendship. As long as we wear these rings, she will help us in any way she can." Holmes explained, "Except in the pursuit of Professor James Moriarty. I can understand her motives."  
  
"Why wouldn't she help us?" Beth asked curious.  
  
Holmes smiled, "They love each other. I noticed it during those last few days just as she knew that we loved each other. She refuses to take sides. I can respect that."  
  
"So can I." Beth nodded as she thought about it. Gently she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder, "I don't have to like it."  
  
"I think she will allow you that much."  
  
Ayesha began meowing loudly as she began to nudge that larger package. Holmes noticed it. Lestrade broke away from him so he could grab the box. His heart stopped as he noticed the outline of a violin case. He unwrapped the brown paper to see an old violin case. Reverently, he opened it to see his old Stradivarius sitting there. Sherlock felt his throat close up as he lifted it up. A beautiful song drifted into the room. Ayesha's ears picked up. She left her perch and trotted to the door. Lestrade noticed and grabbed Holmes arm to follow.  
  
Watson watched as a cat trotted pass and leaped into the woman's arm. The woman smiled at him and he realized it was the same lady that he talking to at the Opera House. He watched as she turned to the waiting car. Lestrade and Holmes stepped out on to the street to see a smiling, healthy Erika step into the car. Before anyone could react, the car took off.  
  
Erika turned to Madame Giry and Buquet, "Did Nadir check in yet?"  
  
"Oui, Mademoiselle Phantom. He is waiting for us." Buquet smiled.  
  
"Good, let's go."  
  
So why are we  
  
Almost a love song  
  
Instead of the  
  
Song of the year.  
  
We are a good one I fear  
  
Will the moment go by  
  
Will I lose you  
  
Are we frighten to try  
  
I mustn't lose you  
  
If I do then it's tragic  
  
We have too much magic  
  
To be almost love song  
  
And we might as well face it  
  
You owe me a love song  
  
I could never replace you  
  
So where is my love song  
  
My dear  
  
Moriarty was slumped in his chair. His gray eyes gazed into the fire. In his mind he wasn't in the damp hide out. He was back on the roof of The Opera House with Erika gazing at the Paris night. At the sound of crashing , he opened his eyes. He fixed Fenwick with a pointed glare that said several things. Fenwick gulped and scattered away. Moriarty sighed. His henchman meant well, it was just Moriarty wasn't in the mood for anyone. He wasn't sure if Erika was alive or not. He snuck down to the underground house only to find it empty even of her cat. Moriarty searched all over Paris, but nothing was found. No one was talking as if she never existed. Moriarty often wondered if it was a dream that he dreamed up the whole thing and Erika. He closed his eyes hoping to return to the dream.  
  
Suddenly the alarms went off. Moriarty turned to see Fenwick run back into the room. Fenwick glared at the computer monitor. He started cursing in French as he banged on the monitor which failed to bring up a picture. Fenwick looked up at his master.  
  
"Don't worry, master." Fenwick assured an annoyed Moriarty as he inched to the door, "It's probably some zed rat. I'll check it out."  
  
Fenwick slipped out of the secret door. Moriarty sighed in exasperation as he stood up and walked over to the screen. Fenwick meant well but he was clueless when it came to computers. Moriarty leaned over the keyboard and began to type. Soon he had the monitors back on-line. Absently, he heard the door open back up. At first he thought Fenwick returned until he saw Fenwick stroll across the monitor. So he had a visitor. Moriarty reached for the ionser hidden under the hutch that the computer system sat on. He whirled around ready to fire only to be surprise to see who his visitor was.  
  
Standing right in front of him dressed in black leather pants, a sapphire shirt and leather trench coat was a healthy Erika Noir. Her hair was down and framed her face beautifully. Her blue eyes gazed at him waiting for a response. Moriarty felt his heart get lodge in his throat and begin to beat wildly with joy. He took a step towards her. Erika's eye darted warily to the gun in his hand.  
  
"Hello, Professor." Erika greeted, "Could you please put the ionser down? I have had enough of firearms to last me quite a while."  
  
Moriarty realized he still held the gun and turned to drop it in the chair. He turned back around and smiled, "It's a pleasure to see you alive, Mademoiselle Noir."  
  
"A pleasure to be alive." Erika smiled relieved yet still sad, "I'm sorry for worrying you. Nadir heard you were paying a high price for any information on my condition."  
  
"Oui, The Underworld in Paris was strangely quiet on that."  
  
"For good reason. The Count has friends who may try to finish what he started. I still have a long way to go before it is finished."  
  
"You could stay here with me. I can protect you."  
  
Erika smiled sadly at him, "If it was only that easy. No, professor, I can't get you involved just as I can't be involved in your crimes."  
  
"Don't think I will let you go now that you are here."  
  
"You once said you would do as I suggested. You still haven't done it."  
  
"I could do it now. You have walked into my home now." Moriarty realized as he walked towards her. Erika stood her ground, refuse to give an inch. Moriarty cupped her chin and whispered, "You constantly amaze me, Erika."  
  
"And you do the same to me, Professor. It's sad that we can't be together." Erika whispered back, "We are almost a love song." Moriarty brushed his lips over hers and said, "The only thing stopping us is our own doubts."  
  
"I don't belong in your world, professor, and you don't belong in mine. I wouldn't force you to because it would change who you are. Can you do that to me?"  
  
Moriarty paused as he considered her words, "No, I can't. But I'm not going to lose you."  
  
Erika smiled lovingly at him, "I wouldn't want you to."  
  
Moriarty let go of her chin and turned away. This was an impossible situation. He knew he couldn't let her leave his life again. She did once and he was a wreck over it. He looked at Erika who watched him with concern. In her eyes reflected what he was feeling. They stared at each other for a few minutes until one of spoke.  
  
"We have a problem then. I don't think I could live with you." Erika whispered, "I swore I wouldn't fall in love again, not after The Count's betrayal and my father's death. Yet somehow you broke down my defenses."  
  
"Yet you can't live in my world. We would constantly be on the run." Moriarty remarked, "There is also your friendship with The Inspector. I can assume that you don't want to put that in jeopardy."  
  
Erika shook her head, "I will stand by you in everything except when it involves the two detectives."  
  
Moriarty smiled, "They are involved in everything that I do. But I understand what you are saying. I'll let you leave today with a promise from you."  
  
Erika smiled as she stepped towards him. Moriarty pulled her close to him. To hell with his breeding. He watched Holmes and Lestrade kiss several times since their return from Paris. Moriarty captured Erika's lip passionately. He pulled away and held her close.  
  
"I want you to promise that you will come here again. I didn't think I could survive without you too." Moriarty breathed in to her hair. The scent of jasmine filled his nostrils and Moriarty was transport back to his first time at the Noir grave and his assailant. He tilted Erika's head up. She was the one who attacked him. A smile touched his lips, who would thought that he would have found her. He asked her , "Do you promise?"  
  
Erika smiled gently, "Oui, if you come to see me in Paris."  
  
Erika kissed him gently and with unspoken love. She slipped a golden ring on to his left ring finger. When she pulled away, she walked to the door. Before she walked out the door, she turned to him. Moriarty took in her beauty before saying, "I promise. Someday Erika I will catch you and keep you forever once I achieve my goals."  
  
Erika smiled wickedly, "I will be waiting for you, James, catch me if you can."  
  
She was gone in an instant. Moriarty smiled. The old fire that he had before had returned to his eyes. He turned and began to plan. He had a lot of work to do. He stopped as he heard Erika sing in the tunnel. The song was true to their situation. Moriarty grinned to himself, not if he had anything to do with it.  
  
So where is my love song,  
  
My dear?  
  
The End (For Now)  
  
MW: Currently toying with the idea of doing either a prequel (one- shot) or a sequel. What do you think? 


End file.
